Moving On
by Meadonroe
Summary: Jin Kazama sells the Mishima Zaibatsu, an event which was bound to get repercussions. (yaoi)
1. Chapter 1

Xiaoyu wrapped a white-colored scarf around her neck, with the cold breezes winter brought along. Despite the time of the year - December 1st - there haven't been any reports of snowfall so far. But it sure was damn cold outside, and Xiaoyu thanked her lucky stars that she no longer had to wear a school uniform, now she was a college student. In the corner of her eye she saw her best friend Miharu exist the building and politely waved at her as the redhead noticed her. She bowed, 'I'll see you tomorow, Miharu!' The redhead nodded with a smile that reached from one ear to the other and dashed of with some random guy she met during one of her classes. Ruffling with the little plushed animals she had attached to her bag, she kept her eye out for her first date ever since her former crush - Jin Kazama - finally grew a pair of balls and told her once and for all that he wasn't interested in her in any way. At the other side of town, Steve had a firm grip on the steering wheel of his old, rusty, but trustworthy Peugot. Forest Law sat in the passangersseat and grunted unpatiently as the car was held up in the peak-hour traffic. His constant shifting in his seat, and low-breath swearing, was really getting on Steve's nerves, so he opened the the path to conversation. 'Tell me once again why I decided to give you a ride to this side of town?'

Forest let his head rest on the head-support of the seat, letting a huge sigh escape. 'Because I'm meeting up with a girl,'  
A grin found its way to Steve's lips, upon hearing the received answer to his question. 'A girl, eh? What's 'er name?'

The pair of hazel eyes that belonged to the Chinese-American chef, found the pair of powderblue ones of his friend. 'Xiaoyu, although her nickname is Xiao,' The Brittish Boxer immediatly squeezed his eyes shut and made a grunt-like sound. 'Mate, Noooo! You have no idea what you're getting into,' Forest cocked an eyebrow, eying Steve's disappointed facial-expression. 'Ling Xiaoyu has personal ties with a lot of the Tekken Tournament contestants,' He smiled when he saw the confused look on Forest's face. 'Well, the reason Xiaoyu, despite being Chinese, lives in Japan is because she managed to kick the asses of, no other than Heihachi Mishima's, security guards. He saw her potential and brought her here, where she would attend the Mishima Polytechnical School. The same school Miharu Hirano and Jin Kazama attended. She's one of Jin's closest relatives, aside from his mother and his uncle Lee Chaolan. And because of Jin's rivalry with the Korean Hwoarang, Xiaoyu somehow managed to befriend Hwoarang. She' the granddaughter of Wang Jinrei, she challenged Nina Willams to a fight around the events of the fourth Tekken Tournament, and thus gained her respect. She recently kicked Anna William's butt, and also has befriended the Cyborg Alisa. Oh and not to forget that Yoshimitsu saved her ass from death',

Forest blinked a few times before pouting. 'Look .. I do not want to get in any troubles with the Kazama's or Mishima's.. those families are insane, man!'

Steve could only nood in agreement, before he pulled out infront of the university. 'But I'm sure she's an amazing person. So, mate .. ,' the blond spoke, shaking the black-haired man's hand and patting him on the shoulder. 'Go get 'er!' With shaking legs Forest managed to step out of the car and lean into the window. 'Just gimme a call when you want me to pick ya up, okay mate? Have a good one!' And having said that, he drove off into what remained of the peak-hour traffic. Trembling, Forest made his way onto the campus, searching the shoulderlength black hair that he remembered Xiaoyu to have. But at second thought, most of the students at the campus had black shouderlength hair. Forest mentally slapped himself. But when he heard a group of girls call out Xiaoyu's name, he looked up and saw a rather short, obviously Chinese looking girl standing at the main entrance of the building.

'Okay Forest, this is it. Your first date in years, you can do this! And she's Chinese, so dad must aprove of her! You can do this!'  
With all the confidence he could possibly talk into himself, he approached Xiaoyu. The girl noticed him and soon realized that her date had finally arrived. She greeted him with a big smile and they both bowed at the exact same time, causing them to headbutt one another with a huge force. Groaning both Chinese grabbed their heads in mere agony, and started laughing once they realized what had happened. Forest held out his hand, hoping he wasn't smiling in a pervert kind of way. 'Law. Forest Law,' Xiaoyu happily shook his hand. 'Ling. Xiaoyu Ling. Pleased to meet you, Forest,' Blushing faintly, Forest couldn't deny that Xiaoyu was a beautiful young woman, even if she looked much younger than her actual age. Xiaoyu pushed some strands of hair behind her ear, smiling cutely. 'I must say, Forest.. You look much younger than you are. I would've never given you 28..' Both Forest and Xiaoyu shared a smile. 'I was thinking the exact same thing, actually ..'


	2. Chapter 2

Jin sighed and sent one of his many servants away, resorting to some much needed personal time. Ever since the events of the sixth Tekken Tournament, Jin realized he had made plenty of foolish decisions, many of those he truly regretted. But he was about to make a decision that would free him from further predjudice, and would make it easier to break all ties with his family members once for all. He stripped down, scattering his clothes all over the floor. His intentions of taking a relaxing, and soothing bath were disturbed by the obnoxious knocking on his chamberdoor. Shrouding his toned and broad body with a robe, he answered the knock on the door. The guest held out his hand in a familiar kind of way, but Jin never moved a muscle, nor intended touching the man's hand. Instead, he stepped aside, allowing the guest to enter the chamber. Reaching for a bottle of liquor, the guest had kindly rejected the offer of initiation. Jin scoffed whilest pouring himself a drink. Placing the bottle on the table, Jin turned toward the Swedish man, trying to find any alikeness in his face.

Anything, even the smallest outward sign that would confirm their afiliation towards eachother. But other than the harsh, and cold stare the man possesed, there was nothing that addressed the likeliness of both men being related. 'Mr. Alexandersson ..' Jin finally spoke, never averting his gaze. Rotating his wrist, causing the liquid inside to bounce off onto the glass walls. The Swedish man shook his head, wearing a rather uncomfortable smile on his lips. 'Please, I ask you to call me Lars, Mr. Kazama,' Jin raised a bushy eyebrow, bringing the glass closer to his perfectly formed lips in a slow pace. The way Jin would stare at him, made Lars Alexandersson rather uneasy. And the man wasn't sure whether to act familiar towards the guy due to the recently discovered family connections, or to keep his distance and maintain a formal posture. Either way, Jin Kazama was an extremely powerfull man, litterally and figuratively. Not only did he cast of a fairly intimidating impression on anyone he would just shortly glance at, but he would provoke compassion at the same time, making it impossible to know how to act around the guy, leave alone understand his ways.

Jin planted himself in a leather-coated chair, placing the glass on the oak-wood desk. His hands shoved a bundle of papers towards Lars, holding a pen out for the man to take. Lars held a skeptical posture, but took the pen out of Jin's ice-cold finger, eying the dossier that was on the desk infront of him. He found Jin's hazel eyes when he looked up. So distant, yet .. they seem to detain so much pain. 'I assume you want me to sign these papers, mr. Kazama? But before I do .. Are you absolutely sure you want to sell your company? And if so .. do you certain that you want to sell it to a familymember?' Jin took another sip from the liquored drink, leaning back in his chair, causing it to stretch and squeek. He seemed to give it a thought, but shortly after flushed the liquor down in one gulp. Lars gasped, but tried not to show his amazement. The black haired man closed his eyes. 'I am certain I want to sell, otherwise I wouldn't have contacted you. Other than your take-over, your existence means absolutely nothing to me,' Lars couldn't help but frown as he heard Jin's harsh sounding words, trying to figure out why the man would resort to such solitude. Jin tapped the dossier with his indexfinger, indicating that he was waiting for Lars to sign them. The ash-blonde nodded, and murmured a silent 'Oh, right, excuse me' before placing his autograph on the files and handing them over to Jin Kazama. The man then stood up and reached out his hand to Lars, showing a peculiar grin on his lips. As Lars shook Jin's hand, he could swear he felt a jolt of electricity run through his arm. 'Very well, Lars. Then are deal is complete. I thank you and wish you the very best of luck with the company!'

When Lars excited Jin Kazama's mansion, and was about to get into his car, he saw an Antique white limousine drive up the driveway. And no other than the infamous Kazuye Mishima who was escorted inside of the mansion that belonged to his only son. Lars figured Jin must have informed his father about the sale, but then again .. The Kazama - Mishima bloodline acted as water and oil, and never seemed to get along or agree on anything at all. To put it frankly, the Mishima's and Kazama's would like nothing more to kill each and every last one of the remaining familymembers. And secondly, if Jin Kazama en Kazuya Mishima hated eachother's guts, why would they meet up in the middle of the night? Eventhough Lars just recently figured Kazuya and Lee were his steph-brothers, thus making Jin, Asuka and Jun Kazama his familymembers as well, Kazuya managed to already bug the hell out of him and even attack him, leading to a heated fight. But having witnessed this distant and cold hearted behavior of Jin Kazama, Lars could only confirm that Jin was a spitting image of his father. Yet the to imagine a person that inherited the pure heart of Jun Kazama, to turn into the image of the devil himself, seems like such an tiresome internal battle, Lars could only imagine how difficult Jin's life must be, if he indeed attempted to suppres the cursed genes he inherited from Kazuya. Taking one last look at the Kazama mansion, Lars took a deep breath and decided to leave the area as soon as possible and return home.


	3. Chapter 3

Hwoarang's mind was set on one thing, and one thing alone. In order to end the rivalry between Jin Kazama and himself, he needed to confront the Japanese man one last time. But once the word got out that Jin had sold the Mishima Zaibatsu to his uncle Lars Alexandersson, a cold war seemed to have begun, as Kazuya Mishima and Lee Chaolan both saw an opportunity to get their hands on the million-dollar company once and for all. Hwoarang's trademark motorcycle rushed passed and through the long lasting line of evening traffic, missing instant death by a few inches multiple times. He enjoyed the wreckless driving-style he had adapted througout the years. The more danger involved, the more adrenaline would rush through his body, heating up his limbs. In the back of his mind he replayed the last couple of years of his worrysome life, reminded of how he used to live for the few chances he had at killing Jin Kazama. He never seemed to manage to get there though, he had severely injured the man, broke a few bones and scarred a number of patches of skin, but when the opportunity to kill the Asian man presented itself, Hwoarang got tangled up in the history he had shared with him, thus letting his emotions get the better hand and running of, leaving Jin without a word. The redhead stepped off his motorcycle and glaced up at the huge mansion infront of him. 'No turning back, 'Rang. Face that fruitfly!'

Just moments before the Korean boy wanted to press the doorbell with a finger, the doors slowly swung open, accompanie with the familiar cracking sounds and metalic doorknobs hitting the wooden doors. 'Man, these Japs really have a thing with trees and woods,' Hwoarang thought, but quickly reposturized himself, once he saw a head full of moonlight silver hair and an outfit only a metrosexual martial arts master and head of technology, would find stylish. 'Ah .. my, my.. why would I deserve such a handsome visitor at such an unholy hour?' Hwoarang despised the manner the Chinese man spoke in, it sounded way too feminine than he was used to from another male. Lee's hand found the Korean boy's broad shoulder and guided him to the guest room, as one of Lee's many female servants shut the door behind them. The silver haired man made his way over to the bar section of the huge guest room. 'Could I charm you with a glass of whisky?' Hwoarang nodded, looking at his surroundings. 'Man .. you Kazama - Mishima dogs are all richboys, aren't you?' Lee handed Hwoarang his glass and seated himself right across from him, crossing his legs and letting his arms rest on the chair. Hwoarang emptied his glass upon looking at Chaolan. This man was way too confident, acting too smut and overall .. had to much sensuality implemented in his every move.

A pair of brown eyes found an identical pair. Lee smirked, sipping his liquor. 'You haven't answered my question yet, Hwoarang. Do I pronounce that correctly?' Despositing the emtpy glass on the glass table that stood in between the men, Hwoarang looked up, to gaze into the intrueging gaze of the other. 'You don't pronounce the the w and o. And it's pretty obvious why I'd lower myself to your level and visit,' Releasing the breath Lee had been holding, the Chinese man carried yet another smug grin on his pale face. Hwoarang hated this man's guts! 'I'm looking for Kazama. And you're his uncle, so I figured you might know where he's hiding,' The other man continued his smug glare, shifting in his seat and changing the legs he had crossed. 'Dear boy, even if I was aware of my nephew's current location .. what would convince me to enlighten you with such information?' Hwoarang clenched his fists, gritting his teeth, and narrowing his eyes. 'You are a Mishima dog, so it only makes sence that you hate the Kazama's! Tell me where his is, Chaolan! Cut the crap!" The silver haired man chuckled. 'Hwoarang, how I adore your pressence,' He got up and walked up to the Korean redhead, wrapping some strands of that red hair around his fingers. 'Yes, I do feel a feeling resembling pure hate towards the Kazama's, yet I don't hate them. Hate is such an aweful word,' His lips literally inches away from Hwoarang's ear.

'Don't worry, young man. I won't befoul your ..' Lee laughed, quickly covering his lips with his glass. Hwoarang smelled the scent of alcohol in Lee Chaolan's breath, and by the volume of it, he could tell that this wasn't the man's first drink for the day. '.. Well, from the looks at you, I can only confirm that there isn't much of you left to be soiled,' He walked back towards his seat, laughing in a pejorative manner. Hwoarang was about to kick this guy's teeth in and smash his pretty head in if he were to continue these power games, yet he needed Chaolan's knowledge. 'Tell me where Kazama is and I'll leave! That's all I came here for!' Lee planted himself into his seat, gesturing at the empty seet next to him. 'Come, Hwoarang. Come sit with me. Let me have a closer look at that Korean exterior,'


	4. Chapter 4

Sergei narrow his eyes as he saw a black figure nearing his HQ at a great speed. From the balcony where he stood, originally intended to catch some fresh air, but now getting ready for a confrontation with an uninvited guest. At his own surprise, Dragunov watched Lars step out of his car, sending the tall Russian man a polite nod of the head. He let his guard down, and got one step closer to actually curling his scarred lips into a smile, yet he stopped in the act shortly after realizing he was nearly smiling at what once was considered an enemy. The Swedish man crooked a smile and held up the contract he had signed just a moment ago at the Kazama residence. Dragunov stepped aside, allowing Lars to enter the HQ, gesturing to the ash-blonde to follow him. Without questioning Sergei's intentions, he followed the majorly tall man, until they reached a certain room and the man closed the door after their entrance. Lars handed the mute man the dossier and watched as he scrolled through them. Once he looked up, Lars saw Sergei's trademark death glare. Leaning on the desk, Lars knew Sergei saw opportunity. 'The Mishima Zaibatsu is officially mine. And I'm willing to sell you the company's secrets, and you know what I want in return,' Silently humming, arms held behind his back, Dragunov paced around the office room, coming to a sudden halt, the man looked down - mainly because of this ridiculous size compared to the normal length of Lars - and smiled. This time a smile became very clear on his pale face.

Lars smiled as he saw the sleeping face of his first love. Eventhough it wasn't a crush considered 'normal' amongst others, he still felt much more for this artificial intelligence than he ever did for any human being. He just wanted to run towards her, but was stopped by Sergei's touch on his shoulder. With a sigh, Lars handed over the dossier. Sergei smirked upon receiving the gift, and opened the capsule that held the most advanced piece of technology known to the Mishima Zaibatsu. The Humanoid Weapon, Alisa Bosconovitch. The gentle touch of Lars' fingers on the cold glass that seperated him from the machine, caused a set of bright green-colored eyes to open. The ash-blonde held out his hand, which the pink-haired gladly took, in order to step out of the capsule. Despite being a cybernetic organism, Alisa's hair had grown, aswel as her 14-year old body. The sound of Dragunov clearing his throath, caught both of their attention, causing them to turn their head in the direction of the Russian man. He pointed to a closet, which held Alisa's clothes. Whilest the now 17-year old girl got dressed, Lars tried to reach out for Sergei. 'I wonder how the voice of Alisa's safekeeper sounds like,' Wrapping her slender arms around the black-haired man, Alisa laughed. ' Thank you for taking such good care of me, Dragunov-san,' with that she released him and bowed deeply. The man placed his large hand on her soft, pink cheek and nodded with a serene expression on his pale, scarred face. Grabbing Lars' arm, she ran out of the room, dragging a confused Lars Alexandersson behind her.

-

Jin slipped into black sweatpants, drying his pitch black hair with a towel, whilest answering the obnoxious melody of knocks on his chamberdoor. Hwoarang grabbed him by the neck, even before Jin had a chance of defending himself. The redhead threw the Japanese man across the room, pure hatred radiating his hazel eyes. 'Finally found you, Kazama..' Tightening his gloves, the Korean stretched his neck, keeping a direct aim at Jin Kazama, who had yet to get back up from the sudden air-dive. 'I've been searching and searching for at least 3 years, and all I had to do was have a nice one-on-one talk with your beloved, Mishima dog Uncles. I must say, your family deserves some medals for world's most disgusting human beings. That Swedish guy was alright though, but that Chinese piece of shit .. ' He put his fiery red hair in a ponytail. 'He tried to make a move on me. Sure taught him a lesson. Good thing he's a rich kid, because he'll need the money to pay for a new denture. And luckily for you, I'll make sure I'll finish you, so no need for any repairs after, Kazama dog!"

Jin took a deep breath. With every step his Korean rival would take, the parquet floor answered with a cracking sound. He knew he had to make sure not to provoke any more trouble with Hwoarang. Eventhough Jin knew he could easily take on the Tae Kwon Do fighter, he did not intend on causing permanent damage to the man. "Hwoarang, normally I would tell you I have no time for your nonsense. Yet with current event, I suppose I'm available at the moment,' Confusion in Hwoarang's eyes, for once, his rival did not reject his need for a fight. And it bothered him, since he had gotten so used to use swears, insults and Jin's troublesome past, to convict the Japanese into getting into a fight with him. Hwoarang lowered his arms, but continued staring into the dark eyes of his long-time rival. 'Hwoarang, you said you wanted to end this once and for all..' Jin's voice died near the end of the sentence, causing Hwoarang to question whether to keep his guard up or not. 'Go ahead if you'd please. I no longer have any need of harming you,'

'No .. No, Kazama. Don't you dare go all emotional on me!'' Spat Hwoarang, who now had no idea how to handle the current situation. 'Maybe you're right. I've caused so much harm.. Yet, as we speak withdraw from the Mishima Zaibatsu,'Hwoarang cocked an eyebrow in confusion. 'What do you mean? What are you getting at, Kazama?'

'I sold the Mishima Zaibatsu. I no longer want to be part of anything that has any involvement with any relatives of mine,' The silence pierced through Hwoarang's ears, and angered he punched Jin directly in the face, causing the man to lose his ballance and drop to his knees. It didn't make any sense to the Korean. 'Why don't you fight back, Kazama? Don't you dare go pussy on me, just because nobody loves the likes of you! You've caused that trainwreck on your own!' Jin lowered his head, sighing deeply. 'Hwoarang, either kill me or burry the hatchet. I won't harm you anymore,' Laughing, the Korean clenched his wrists, only to kick Jin right in between te ribs. The man released a scream of agony, falling face down onto the parquet wood floor. Traces of blood left Jin's nose and mouth, he tried to get back up, but it seemed more likely to have suffered from broken ribs. Hwoarang drew near the Japanese man. 'When I first met you, Kazama, we both were eager to win the streetfight, yet neither of us managed to get the other to submit surrender,' Jin's eyes were able to only focuss on the leather shoes the redhear wore, as he saw those boots walk all across the room in distress. 'I entered the Tekken Tournament because I knew you were entering. This was my chance to kick your richboy's ass, yet I ended up saving your sorry ass from the Tekken Force,' Kicking the chairs out of his way, Hwoarang caught his breath. 'The following tournament still didn't give me any satisfaction. No.. this time you help me escape my militairy commander.. yet I get arrested and had to return to Korea to end my Military service...,'

'And then it happened .. I finally beat you, yet you seem unaffected. THAT SUCKED!' He kicked the desk aside, watching many papers fly across the room within the proces. 'How you managed to find me after the tournament, still remains a mystery.. but you destroyed my motorcycle. You'll pay for that one day, Kazama. I guess that whatever happened to your genes, helped you almost murder me, Kazama.. But this time I want it to finally end!' He crouched down infront of a clearly suffering Jin Kazama. 'It's really easy, Kazama. I could kick you once again in the ribs, causing your lungs to collapse. I could then just leave you here to suffocate ..' Jin managed to look up and see the smug look on the Korean's face. Yet.. he seemed unable to show any sign of anger, nor hate. The pain left him unable to respond, so all he could do was reach out for Hwoarang. The redhead grabbed Jin's trembling hand firmly. 'I despise you Kazama, but it just wouldn't be as much fun without you around,' helping Jin up, Hwoarang cursed at himself for not letting Jin rot in here, but a part of him screamed :' you're not like them '


	5. Chapter 5

'Mr. Mishima, we have received the message that your son has been hospitalized in central Hiroshima,'  
Kazuya's face remained straight, not showing even the slightest sign of any interest. He brought a mall glass up to his lips, letting his eyes find his employee.  
'Mr. Mishima, as a sign of respect for the health of Mr. Kazama, I suggest you pay him a short visit. Ofcourse, if it can be combined with your scheme,'  
The 50-year old man swallowed his liquor, tilting his head to the right. A picture of Jun caught his eye, instantly remembering the uneasy sensation he had felt, when she made her first appearance in years, during the event of the second Tekken Tag tournament.  
Still awaiting the answer of his employer, the man standing near the office door, bowed deeply, opening the door. 'I'll give you a moment to consider your decision, Mr. Mishima. I'll hear from you soon,'  
Kazuya watched as the man left the room, and leaned back in his chair. 'Visit my son ..' he spoke, casting a glance at Jun's photo once more. 'Why not? He is completely helpless at the moment,' Laughing viciously, the man rose onto his feet, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair.

Kazuya walked towards room 253 in the hospital, accompanied by at least 5 guards. Most visitors and staff members felt a jolt of fear, mixed with confusion run through their bodies, a most natural expected reaction to the pressence of no other than Kazuya Mishima. The men stayed put as the broad Japanese man entered the room where his son was laid to rest. The white walls surrounding the man, caused him to squeeze his eyes shut, grabbing a chair and placing it directly next to the bed. Watching the sleeping face of his 26-year old son, made a vicious smile crawl onto his lips. 'Someone clearly beat me to it, I would have loved to get the honor of sending you straight to a hospital,' Mishima spoke softly, his voice yet stern. 'I knew Jun would manage to spoil you into become something weak. She soiled the genes I'd passed on to you, such a shame, dear son. You truly have potential. When your hatred, anger, or any other negative emotion takes possession of you, you remind me of myself. And even though the Devil Gene is mine and belongs purely to me, seeing you cause so much pain, suffering and destruction, is what makes a father feel so proud of his offspring,' Crossing his muscular legs, the 50-year old lit a cigar. 'Open your damn eyes, Jin. I know your subconsious mind is able to hear me,' The silence seemed to prevail, but didn't get that opportunity when the sound of footsteps, due to leather boots, came near the room. Kazuya's grin only widened upon greeting a pair of hazel eyes. 'I thought I would encounter your pathetic pressence around here,' Kazuya said, turning to meet with his adopted relative, Lee Chaolan, or born as Li Xiao Long. A smug smile graced the pale, yet silk smooth skin of the Chinese silver haired devil. 'Brother dear, it had to be. Predictable that the both of us share a goal,' The sound of leather and metal ecchoed across the walls again, Lee taking place at the other side of the bed.

A third, pretty familiar face popped up in the doorway. Both Kazuya and Lee grinned once they recognized the pretty face of a Korean boy with wild, auburn colored hair. In contrast to the dark grins on the faces of the Mishima's, and the expectation in the back of their minds to see the Korean appear in this place, Hwoarang did not expect to see his rival's father nor uncle at the side of Jin's hospital bed. He didn't want to be in the same room with either of them, if hhe had to be honest. Kazuya Mishima took intimidating to a whole new level. Scaring the living shut outta you, but at the same time making you feel at ease, as awkward as that might sound. But Lee Chaolan was the worst by far. Not only was the man openly bisexual, not really bothering the Korean, but the man did not have to make a move on him on every ocasion. Lee's confidence and sensual movements did not only make Hwoarang feel so unbelievably uncomfortable, he also had the constant feeling he had to look over his shoulder, to make surre the man wasn't going to rape the living shit outta him. Kazuya finally spoke, pointing at the empty chair next to him, which Hwoarang gladly accepted, knowing he would rather get at Kazuya's good side for once, then getting undressed with the eyes by Chaolan, whenever the silver haired Chinese sensed the Korean' scent. Speaking of scent .. 'Aw Hwoarang, you reek rather .. wild. What kind of cologne do you use?' Kazuya and Hwoarang both send Lee a deathglare, shifting in their seat. Even though the reason people use cologne, perfume, deodorant or au de toilette was for others to notice their lovely scent, but you don't really want to smell like anything fresh near the Chinese fighter. Unless.. you liked to be raped. Hard. Raped so hard... Hwoarang gritted his teeth, but decided to answer nonetheless. 'It's a cheap aftershave, Chaolan. I stole it, satisfied with that answer?'

Lee smirked. 'You are such a wanton young man. I like them untamed,' Kazuya squeezed his eyes shut in disgust. Hwoarang aimed his gaze at Jin, sleeping peacefully, unaffected by the torture Hwoarang had to go through. 'Kazama, wake up!' Hwoarang shouted, kicking the bed. Kazuya watched, clearly amused with the short-tempered Korean. 'So you are my son's infamous rival ..' The 26-year old turned around, to look into the dispassionate eyes of the 50-year old Japanese. God those eyes, no emotion near to be detected in those seperate collored irisses. He put out the cigar, placing the ash tray on the little table next to him. 'I find it rather fascinating how much hatred you put into your desire to beat my son, seeing him as your offical rival, yet he doesn't feel the same way about you,' This caught Lee's attention, legs crossed, he raised a curious eyebrow. 'To put it quite frankly, it is pathetic to see how my own flesh and blood sees you as an acquaintance, even if you hate his guts. Pitiful, Korean punk, quite pitiful,' Hwoarang clenched his fist, kicking the rail of the bed once more.

Aiming his fist at Kazuya Mishima, he got stopped by the sound of hand clapping. 'Good job, pretty boy. You woke my cousin,' Lee said, towering over theconfused body of Jin. 'Rise and shine, Kazama. Time to explain a couple of thing to me,' Grunting, Jin's eyes shut up, finding his father and rival standing so close to each other, he knew one of them was gonna end up hurt. Hwoarang rushed to the bed, punching Jin in the face, willing to punc him once more, before Kazuya grabbed him by the collar. 'Even though I enjoy seeing humans suffer, I need this one alive right now. Once I get what I want, you can have him, punk,' tossing the Korean aside, he grabbed his son by the neck, his fist literally a few centimeters away. 'Spit it out, Jin! Who did you sell the Mishima Zaibatsu too?' Lee kicked his half-brother in the crack of his back, causing the man to release the Kazama son. 'Jin, tell me! Who owns the Mishima Zaibatsu?' No answer could be given, as Kazuya jumped up, pinning Lee onto the ground, repeatedly punching Lee in the face. Hwoarang's eyes dialated, without giving it any thought, he grabbed Jin by the arm and made a run for it, whilest Jin's father and uncle were caught up in a rather violent fist fight.

Still somewhat dazed by the anesthetics, Jin allowed Hwoarang to pull his body onto a motorcycle. Yelling at Jin, telling him to hold onto his (Hwoarang's) waist tightly, the Korean started the machine and dashes off. Hwoarang saw members of the G Coorporation and Violet Systems chase him. Swearing under his breath, he managed to shake them off, entering an alley that lead to a huge, abandoned building. Hwoarang got of his motorcycle, and took off his leather jacket, only to wrap it around Jin's shaky, trembling nude chest. Once made it safely into the building, Hwoarang seated Jin on a torn up couch, getting a beer from the frigde himself, emptying almost half of its contents in one gulp. Jin inspected his surrings, the anesthetics made it hard to focus on something without absorbing huge amounts of energy. He didn't regocnize the room, but he did jump up once he heard a familiar voice speak. 'Kazama, get some rest. You're too numbed to have a conversation at the moment,' Jin reached out for the blurred image of the Korean he knew all to well, losing his ballance, ending up in Hwoarang's arms. He heard the man swear an alphabet of foul words, as he laid Jin back on the couch. 'Dude, don't you dare doing some stupid shit like that again! You weigh 92kg, you're heavy as a motherfucker!' Jin only smiled, wrapping his hand around Hwoarang's wrist. Putting much effort into forming a sentence, Jin spoke: 'Thank you, Hwoarang,'

- -

Leo swallowed as he stood infront of the HQ of Sergei Dragunov. Banging his fists on the door, Leo screamed at the Russian militairy. Clearly not amused by the rude awakening, Sergei opened the door, grabbing Leo by the hair and pushing him backwards, causing the slender blonde the tumble all the way down the dozens of stairs. Obviously injured, Leo managed to get back onto his feet, climbing the stairs with much effort. Sergei chuckled at the steadfastness the blonde was showing. Once again (barely) facing the Russian man, Leo raised a fist, which Sergei grabbed with little to none effort, planting his knee into the German boy's back, forcing him to kneel infront of him. Sergei realized the boy wouldn't admit defeat, despite his injuries, and the pain he felt. and grabbed a handful of blonde hair, making Leo (kind of) face him. A moment of silence followed, Sergei being his mute self, telling stories with his eyes, and Leo, not knowing whether the man was sugesting a truce. The Russian opened the door to his mansion, dragging the blond after him. Leo screamed in agony of the tight hold of Sergei's hand on his hair, being tortured even more once the abnormally tall man starting humming happily whilest dragging in the violent intrudor.

Tossing Leo into a room, Sergei pointed to a door on the right. Leo raised an eyebrow, wondering why the man didn't speak a word. 'What? What do you mean by pointing at that door?' Sighing, Sergei pushed Leo into the wooden door, placing Leo's hand on the doorknob. Moaning in pain, the blond opened the door, revealing a small bathroom containting a toilet, shower and sink/mirror. Leo's blue eyes found the slightly darker grey ones of Dragunov. 'You want me to be in here? What do you want me to do in here?' It was obvious Dragunov was slowly losing his patience with the 19-year old boy. He shook his head, trying to try use a more gentle approach on the blonde. He tugged at Leo's clothing, pointing at the mirror, followed by the shower. Leo looked into the mirror, and gasped as he saw the bruises Sergei had caused. Turning to the pale man, Leo crossed his arms. 'You want to watch me shower? Get out, freak!' Smiling, Sergei left the room, still humming happily.


	6. Chapter 6

'A friend of mine told me that you also became a returning face in the Tekken tournaments,' Law said, fixing his female guest a cup of coffee.  
The Chinese girl smiled, soon followed by the realization that her main reason for participating had always been the one man she'd loved. 'I've entered every tournament so far. Even when I couldn't keep him from making the wrong decisions, I kept the Tekken tradition alive,'  
Leaning in the doorway, Forest saw Xiaoyu's face drop, frowning his eyebrows with the sudden change of atmosphere in the room. Hearing the waterboiler click, Forest turned back to the kitchen, pouring the hot water into the two cups on the kitchen dresser. Hands filled with the cups, he stepped into the livingroom area, placing the cups on cork coasters, kneeling infront of the wooden coffee table. 'The man you referred to, does it happen to be Jin Kazama?'  
Xiaoyu's eyes briefly lit up. 'Yes. But .. I can imagine it isn't really a subject you'd want to talk about on our first date,'  
Smiling, Forest pushed a plate of cookies toward the 20-year old woman sittin across from him. 'I must admit, I can't say I do. But if he meant a lot to you, I can only hope you treasure the memories of him,'

Not sure whether Forest was simply trying to be a polite gentleman, or merely trying to steer the conversation in another direction, Ling took a bite of one of the chocolate cookies Forest had offered her. Remembering the sweet taste of dark chocolate, she eagerly gobbled what remained of the treat. Upon realizing how gluttonous she had acted, she lowered her head in embaressment.

Forest burst into laughter, shaking his head. 'No reason to apologize, Xiaoyu. Cookies are meant to be devoured in whole! Please, do have some more, I hope you like them,'  
With a bright red face, Xiaoyu took a sip of her coffee, avoiding Forest's amuzed face. 'I am a sweet tooth. Offer me treats and I'll go at them like a distructive force,'  
The dark-haired man rubbed a finger through his eye, wiping away a few tears of laughter. 'That's a good thing. Women these days with their diets .. Food is meant to be eaten and stomachs to be filled,'  
Xiaoyu raised her cup. 'Amen to that!'

'Xiaoyu, if you don't mind me asking, I'd love to introduce you to my parents one day,' His face gaining a faint blush, he became flustered upon knitting an excuse to make up his blunt question. 'Ofcourse, if you'd want to see me again after this first date ..'  
Xiaoyu giggled, finding Forest's uncertainty and shy personality utterly adorable, placing her hand on his. 'I'd love to meet your parents. And also seeing you again sounds lovely,'  
Bowing politely, Forest smiled happily. 'Thank you, Xiaoyu,'

-

Leo dried his blonde locks with a towel, looking around. The plan to burst into Sergei Dragunov's home, forcing him to hand him over the Mishima Zaibatsu's secrets, quite backfired greatly. Tossing the white towel on the ground, Leo opened one of the dressers in the room, finding bathropes. Not sure whether it would be okay to do so, Leo wrapped a black-colored robe around his slender frame. Wandering through the huge mansion, Leo started questioning Dragunov's motions. He first got introduced to the Russian soldier in the 6th Tekken tournament. Keeping a mute persona, Dragunov shared little to no interest in anyone other than Jin Kazama, or the Devil persona inside. To his surprise Leo stumbled across a heavy metal door. He placed his ear against it, in order to find out what was kept behind it, only to be surprised by quick footsteps. Whilest the door opened, Leo stepped back, assuming his fighting stance when he saw Sergei's pale, emotionless face.

Equally surprised, the Russian man raised an eyebrow. Eventually stepping aside, holding his arm out, gesturing for Leo to enter his office. The blonde wasn't sure to trust this sudden permission-slip, but decided to brush it off and went inside. The room turned out resemble a dojo, wooden floor, plastic dummies stalled out across the room, and several weapons hanging on the walls. A cold sensation run up and down through Leo's spine upon entering this room. In the corner of his eye, he saw Sergei close the door, returning to his place in the center of the room. Leo frowned, crossing his arms. 'Dragunov, you can drop the mysterious mute act. I don't care what your voice sounds like, hell, it could sound like a little bitch's voice, I couldn't give two flying fucks!' The man looked up, making a 'come here' gesture with his hand. It angered Leo only more. 'Stop it! Just talk! You were given vocal chords in order for you to talk!' Grabbing Leo by the arm, he dragged him to the center of the room, so both men stood directly infront of each other. 'AND STOP TREATING ME LIKE A RAG DOLL!'

Cracking the fine bones in his neck, Leo got ready to kick this abnoxious man's pale, white ass. 'If it's a fight you want, bring it,' Amused, Sergei pushed Leo into one of the training dummies, using the belt like ropes of the robe the blond was wearing, to tie him up. Leo was not amused at all, not only did Dragunov made it more than clear he was much stronger and a more expierenced fighter, he seemed to like owning the blonde German. 'UNTIE ME NOW!' Leo rampaged, kicking and screaming to his helplessness. Dragunov send him a last smile before returning to his training.

-

'Kazama, wake up. You have to eat!' Punching his rival in the arm, Hwoarang shoved a can of veggies into Jin's hands. The Japanese man looked at it for a few seconds, wearing a confused look on his face. Hwoarang couldn't help but notice.  
'It's all I could afford, Kazama. We can't all be rich like you Kazama and Mishima dogs!' Averting his gaze from the ashamed Korean, Jin took a spoonfull of the raw vegetables.

'It's good enough, Hwoarang. At least you offer me food, instead of just letting me starve,' The calm tone of Jin's voice irritated the Korean. 'Shut up, Kazama!'  
'May I ask why ..you took me here? I could've faced my family instead,' Jin said, placing his food on a cartboard box, serving as a table.  
Hwoarang finished his meal, throwing the can on the ground. 'You were sedated because of the anesthetics, Kazama. There was no way you could've delt with both your fucked up father and uncle,'  
Lighting a cigarette, the Tae Kwon Do figher stretched.  
'Eventhough I hate you, Kazama, I don't want you dead. So leaving you with those people would result into your suicide,'  
Jin agreed with a silent nod. It didn't seem like the kind of response Hwoarang was expecting. 'That's all you've got to say? I saved your Japanese ass!'  
'You beat me up, call the ambulance before you make a run for it, visit me in the hospital and then steal me away from my family. That isn't exactly a heroic act,' Jin simply stated.  
Hwoarang raised an eyebrow. 'I wanted to kill you, but I didn't, Kazama. I could have ended it right there, but I'm not like your fucked up family! I didn't call anyone, I dragged you all the way to Hiroshima central, which is a long fucking walk! And yes, I admit I felt guilty, so I visited you, but being in the same room as your father and uncle, even breathing the same air is pure torture! It's a good thing they ended up getting at each other so I could get you out of there,'  
Hwoarang watched Jin's face remained stern. No emotion whatsoever. Hwoarang despised it. 'I don't want to be ungrateful, but I am not hungry. But thank for the offer,' having said that, Jin got on his feet.

'Where are you going, Kazama?' Hwoarang asked. Jin looked at the green attire he wore. 'Hwoarang, would it trouble you to loan me some clothes?'  
'I guess not..' Opening a cardboard box, Hwoarang asked Jin to come to see for himself what pieces of clothing he wanted.  
Jin smiled. 'I'll probably look like my uncle, trying to squeeze a 92kg frame into Medium size,'  
Hwoarang shrugged his shoulders, throwing himself onto the torn up couch again. 'You were the one who wanted to become so robust,'  
Whilest Jin got dressed he spoke : 'I guess that's right. But I needed to so I would be able to take on my father and grandfather,'  
The Korean chuckled. 'A fight isn't won with the size of your chest, its won with technique, Kazama. Out of all people, you should know,'  
The Japanese nodded, a mall smile hidden on his lips. 'I guess I got so caught up in training in order to block out memories about my past, I got too big,'  
'At least you're not some kind of beast, like Marduk. I blame it on steroids, seriously. There's no other way a man can get so big,' 


	7. Chapter 7

'Mr. Mishima ..,'  
A seductive female voice spoke, making Kazuya look up. 'Anna .. Tell me you've got some good news,'  
The brunette hopped on Kazuya's desk, crossing her long, slender legs. 'Mr. Mishima, you need to relax some more,'  
Narrowing his eyes, Kazuya cleared his throath, watching Anna as he were to position herself behind the Japanese man.  
Rubbing his shoulders and arms with the hands, lips near his ear. Kazuya let his head fall back, enjoying the woman's touches.  
'I won't relax. Not until my son has been found!' Kazuya spoke harshly.  
Anna nibbled on Kazuya's earlobe. 'But that's the exact reason you are so tensed, Mr. Mishima. Your son has been such a burden on you,'  
Admitting this assumption, Kazuya grabbed Anna's arm, pulling her onto his lap. 'Why don't you help me get into a more relaxed state of mind,'  
Anna laughed vicously, unbuttoning Kazuya's vest. 'I make you expierence pure divinity, Mr. Mishima,'

-

Hwoarang jumped up at the sudden visit of a blonde assasin. 'Jin Kazama,' she said, holding a riffle in both hands, aiming at the Korean.  
'Lady, be carefull with that thing!,' Hwoarang said, taking small steps towards the blonde. 'Shut your trap and tell me where he is,'  
'Nina, drop the gun. You can trust him,' A voice suddenly spoke, turning their heads into the direction from which the sound emerged, they saw Jin Kazama, dressed in all leather. 'Looking good, Kazama!' Hwoarang said in a mocking sort of way, causing Nina to aim the riffle once more at him.  
'Mr. Kazama, you're not safe here. You must return home,' Making sure Nina and Jin were caught up in the conversation, Hwoarang sneaked up behind the woman, kicking her in the back and grabbing her riffle. Aiming it at Jin and Nina. Jin looked up in surprise of the sudden change of events. 'Hwoarang, put it down. C'mon, you said it yourself, you weren't like them!'

'That fucking chick aimed a gun at me! The fuck was that all about?!'  
'Nina works for me. She is my bodyguard! She took you at aim because she saw you as a threat to my safety. Now put it down!'  
Nina crossed her arms. 'If you really intended on killing either of us, you would've already pulled the trigger, kid. Now be a good boy and give me back my riffle,' Hwoarang's eyes slid to Jin's. 'Listen to us, Hwoarang. You've been in the militairy, you know that isn't a toy!'  
'I will not let a fucking bitch aim a gun at me!'  
Nina raised an eyebrow, backing off when Jin held his arm infront of her, shaking his head.  
'Hwoarang, I'll give you two options to choose from. Either you put the gun down right now and walk away unharmed, or we will have to knock you out and take you with us, making you a suspect and a possible threat to my safety,'

-

'Sergei, untie me this instant! This is child abuse and you know it!'  
Dragunov walked over to the blond, looking at his helpless body as it struggled to free itself from the tight grip of the ropes.  
Opening his mouth, Leo held his breath, hoping the man would finally use his voice. Placing his hand around Leo's neck, the Russian man only gazed at him, making close to no sound. Leo struggled to catch his breath, feeling an episode of darkness form infront of his eyes. 'This it,' Leo thought, 'He's gonna kill me right now,' Losing consiousness, Dragunov caught Leo's lifeless body, holding it in his arms, he brought the German boy back to the guestroom. Removing the robe, he witnessed the bruises Leo's skin held, stroking a single finger down the pattern they formed. Covering the boy with a blanket, Sergei rose onto his feet, closing the curtains and leaving the room, humming.

-

Steve woke up, slightly trembling, sweat trailing down the sides of his face. 'Another one ..' He jumped out of bed, grabbed a shirt, leaving his home, to jump into his car. Whilest driving along the forsaken high way, a speeding motorcycle rushed passed him. As brief as the moment was, Steve recognized the weird hairstyle only a Kazama would find fashionable, stepping on the gas pedal, chasing the vehicle all the way, up until it stopped at a giant mansion. Turning the lights and engine off, Steve saw both Jin Kazama and his mother enter the building, dragging a rather loud man behind them. 'This must be Jin Kazama's home.. But what is my mother doing accompanying him?' Exiting his car, Steve snuk closer to the mansion, making sure none of the seeking light caught him while doing so. Finding a pipeline, he toke a run-up, jumping at the pipe, wrapping his limbs around it, and crawling up. 'Something is going on here ..,'

'Kazama! I will get you for this! I swear to God!' Hwoarang yelled as Nina pushed the Korean into a chair, holding her riffle pointed at his head.  
Jin squatted down infront of him, placing his hands on Hwoarang's knees. 'Hwoarang, until you calm down, I will have to keep you here,'  
Heartbeat increasing, all Hwoarang noticed were the hand of his rival touching him, whilest he couldn't defend himself.  
'You fucking faggot! Take those dirty paws off of me!' swinging his feet violently, Nina dug the riffle into his wild, auburn hair.  
A smug smile formed onto Jin's lips, Hwoarang could tell this was no longer Jin Kazama, but those damned Devil Genes taking over. He felt Jin's hand caress his cheek, Hwoarang tried to pull away, but failed to do so.  
'Hwoarang, I hold you dear, you should know. I am your rival, but not the other way around. Now shut it, unless you want to experience hell,' looking up at Nina, Jin started laughing like a mad man.  
'Fuck you, Kazama! You're such a weak little shit! Fight that fucking devil, you fuck! He has nothing to do with this, this is between you, me and unfortunatly, that Irish bitch!" 


	8. Chapter 8

The mansion that belonged to the first-born son of Kazuya Mishima and Jun Kazama, appeared to be left empty when the Brittish boxer, Steve Fox, managed to crawl through a window that was left open. It looked like he had entered what seemed to be the master bedroom. Steve figured once a kingsized bed caught his eye. The bed wasn't made, seemingly because she sheets laid open. The walls were covered with crimson colored wallpaper, dark parquette stretched across the floor. The nightstand showed, what appeared to be, a family portrait displaying a rather youg looking Kazuya Mishima, his love interest Jun Kazama, both smiling. Jin was held in Jun's arms, giving the picture a warm, happy-family atmosphere. A bottle of prescribed sleeping pills and an empty glass placed next to it. Feeling rather touched at the realization that the infamous Jin Kazama still struggled with the effects of his dysfunctional family-history, and had to resort to narcotics to find peace in the sleep he seemingly craved for. Carefully placing his feet, the blonde sneaked towards the bedroom door, that - once he opened it - led to a rather immanse halway.  
His first thought was to search for either the owner of the mansion, or his mother, for all he cared. His first steps were taken, but Steve inner dialogue, which was a way of talking himself into doing what he was currently doing, without feeling his heart almost leap out of his chest. Yeah, the master of the art of swift sweeps and fists of fury, was sort of a - coward - outside of the matched he trained for.

He found the staircase, carefully descending, his ears met a muffled sound, somewhat similar to .. a voice. Speeding up his pace, Steve gasped when he saw Hwoarang in the guestroom/ entrance hall, limbs tied together with ropes, a piece of cloth wrapped aroud his mouth. 'Hwoarang, what in the Heavens .. ?' Steve screeched, rushing towards to Korean man, untying him and allowing him to breath properly, once the cloth was removed. Gasping for much welcomed oxygen, Hwoarang fell onto hands and knees, coughing, whilest squeezing his eye shut tightly. Steve patted the Korean on the small of his back, carrying a worried expression on his face. 'Are you alright, mate? What happened to ya?' Regaining his posture, Hwoarang stretched his neck, furrowing his eyebrows. 'That Kazama dog, that's what happened!' The Korean rose to his feet, 'slapping' both his hands against his (own) cheeks. He turned sharply, sending Steve a thankful glare. The blonde shook his head in respond, smiling heartfelt, as if he sensed Hwoarang's unusual ways of expressing emotions. 'Don't mention it, 'Rang. That's what mates are there fo,' With a silent nod, Hwoarang ran a hand through his now - even more as usual - messy auburn tresses/locks. 'They messed up my hair! Oh, that does it!' Stomping his feet, Hwoarang turned to Steve, arms crossed, pure hatred to be read from his hazel eyes. 'You got a car that ain't a piece of shit?' Not sure whether Hwoarang's opinion on ' good cars ' concluded Peugots, 'cause that was all the blue-eyed Boxer could offer. 'I know exactly where he is hiding! C'mon Brit-boy!' Chuckling, Steve followed the hotheadded Korean as he made a run for it.

Taking a closer look at Steve's vehicle, Hwoarang raised a skeptical eyebrow. 'I'm not sure if I can say I ever expected you to drive in .. well this,' he said, pointing at the black Peugot that was parked on the drive way. Steve silently shrugged his shoulders, unlocking the car with the automatic key, walking over to the driver's side. Hwoarang peeped over the car's roof. 'Steve.. all joking aside, you are Brittish, huh?' seeing the blonde-haired man nod in agreement, the Korean hissed. 'Don't you Brittish people drive at the wrong side of the road?' Upon hearing the slightly judgemental stereotypical remark, Steve leaned onto the car's roof with both arms. 'You'd like to drive, 'rang?' the Korean immediatly shook his head, getting seated in the car. Following his example, Steve started the car. He turned his head to Hwoarang and smirked, backing the car away from the Kazama residence. 'Do you mind turning on the heat? I'm freezing my nuts off here ..' Turning the heat switch, Steve ran a hand through the little storage infront of Hwoarangs legs. 'If you'd like some music in the meantime ..' Steve said, leaving the storage open for Hwoarang, so he could put both hands back on the steering wheel. ' I've collected quite the amount of CD's,' Hwoarang smirked, bending so he could inspect the collection of CD's held inside the storage. 'You sound like it's something to be proud of, Fox,' The blonde looked at Hwoarang, with an amused face. 'Hey .. I'm not into that whole downloading music idea .. I'd rather buy my music in a more legal way,'

The Korean snickered, running through the CD covers. 'Is that what happens to people that befriend Lei Wulong? They become scaredy cats?'  
Steve had to admit he enjoyed the untamed personality of Hwoarang. The things that man would spit out, and even more hilarous, the way he did it. 'Just because one of my friends happens to be a cop, doesn't mean I'm afraid to break the law. I just don't see the need for such,' Hwoarang had his eyes on a CD cover, showing a barely dressed woman, posing sensually. He tapped the plastic with his fingers, foll rowing the lines of woman's figure. 'Now that's what I call good entertainment! Put it on, I wonder if the music is as good as the cover!' Glancing at the cover, Steve smiled amused at Hwoarang's hormones letting him know they were present and knew what they wanted. 'Was that a subtle hint, 'Rang?' bobbing his head on the rhytm of the rock-influinced music, Hwoarang didn't seem to have heard Steve's question. The blonde stabbed an elbow into Hwoarang's side. The Korean looked up. ' 'd you say something?' Steve made a head-gesture towards to CD cover. 'You seemed to like to girl on the cover ..' Hwoarang nodded. 'Hell, don't you? I bet you do! You act all polite and gentleman-like, but I bet you can't keep it down when you see a fine woman walk by,' Steve now knew for sure, he definetly liked Hwoarang.

'I wouldn't put it that way, but I indeed enjoy a beautiful woman's presence,' Steve said calmly, watching as they were at an intersection. He turned his head to the right and pulled in, releasing the brakes and flooring the gas. 'But I'm not the kinde of bloke that screws around, you know,' to Hwoarangs amusement, Steve continued. 'How it's been a while now .. you know, since I've gotten some ..' The Korean tried his best to keep his laughter muffled underneath his hand, but to no prevail. Steve's face fell. 'I'm sorry, Steve. But .. You've gotta admit, that sounded kinda .. desperate..,' The blonde grumbled, a faint blush present on his cheeks. 'Oh, excuse me, mate. I thought we were having that kind of conversation', the sound of Steve's voice, made Hwoarang feel at ease. He had known the man a couple of years now, heck, he had even faced him a number of times during the Tekken tournament, but he'd never took the time to get to know him better. 'It's because I dig you, man. Otherwise, my sex-life would've stayed confidential,' the boxer only nodded in response. 'To be honest, my little guy hasn't had any company, other than my hand, in quite a while. I used to have a girl every other night, but after a while, it just isn't as fullfilling as in the beginning. I'm horny 24/7, and having them females marching around in skin-tight outfits during the tournaments, isn't exactly helping!' the Korean sighed, receiving a pat on the back from the blonde. 'Starting to feel like you need to settle, ay mate?' 


	9. Chapter 9

'You really think Jin is here, 'Rang?' Steve asked. Both men sat in the black Peugot, owned by the Brittish boxer. Headlights and engine of, shrouded in the dark. Hwoarang narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better view on the dim-litted house. 'Kazama sold the Mishima Zaibatsu, a familybuisness, and knowing Kazama, he'd stay true to traditions. But he'd never let Kazuya nor Chaolan get their hand on the company, so the only remaining relative would be Lars,' Steve raised an eyebrow, as he had no clue about the Kazama - Mishima family tree. Hwoarang sighed. 'It seems Heihachi Mishima, Kazama's grandfather, had an affair with some Swedish chick, impgregnating her without knowing it. Ofcourse, knowing that old fart, he left her and she raised his son, Lars on her own,' The blonde nodded silently. 'You still don't get it do ya?' the Korean hissed. 'Neither Kazuya, Chaolan, Jin nor Heihachi knew about Lars' existence up until the 6th tournament. Kazuya already managed to get Lars on his bad side, as well as Heihachi, who didn't seem to care less. But Chaolan and Lars became close buddies. Jin sold the Mishima Zaibatsu to Lars, knowing that both Kazuya and Chaolan would go after it. Kazuya's first stop would be Kazama, but I kinda caused a riot in the hospital. Jin would fled to the one person is seen as his current rival,' he turned his head at Steve, who still had a confused look on his face. 'Sergei Dragunov. Sergei was sent to Japan in order to capture Kazama, because he was planning to invade Russia. And if I know Mishima dogs, Lars shares their traitor ways, he would hand over the most well kept secrets from the Mishima Zaibatsu to Sergei,'

Steve sighed. 'This is startin' to sound like a bloody history class, matey,' The Korean shook his head, tying his hair into a ponytail. 'But Kazuya and Chaolan aren't as stupid as they may look. They're probably both on their way over here to make Lars pay for his betrayal,' The blonde scratched his head, not sure whether getting involved was such a good idea. 'So we' r here to protect that bloke Lars or what?' The Korean grinned, turning his head toward the main entrance to the builing. 'That's Kazama's motorcycle. Now wait for it ...' he said, having a pause before he yelled 'FUCKING TOLD YA !' and pointed at a antique white limousine pulling up on the driveway. Steve jumped due to the sudden increase in decibels. 'Relax, mate. You're doing your block just because you having a blue with that Kazama bloke?*' (* You're getting this mad because you're having an argument with ... ) Hwoarang turned, only to share an uttermost confused look on his face. 'What the fuck are you talking about, Brit-boy?' Steve leaned back and stretched his arms. 'I'm sorry, mate. I'm nackered. You shouldn't be doing your block just because them Kazama's and Mishima's have a ticket on theirselves*' (I'm exhausted, You shouldn't get so mad just because they think they're all that great .. ) Hwoarang, slowly losing his temper, punched the blonde against the shoulder. 'Speak English, not.. whatever the fuck you're speaking!' Furrowing his eyebrows, the brittish man pushed the redhead against the glass of the passangerdoor. 'What'd you do that fo'? Watch it or I'll job ya*!' (*I'll punch you) Hwoarang groaned. 'Hey 'Rang, I know you don't fancy them Kazama's.. but it's because of the wat they're mucking around, aye?' (acting in a way that others don't like)

'We just have to stay put and simply wait until something breaks. Windows, furniture, anything pointing out there's a fight going on,' the Korean said, following Steve's lead, and leaned back. 'We're playing sillybuggers, mate,' (we're wasting our time) upon seeing the stunned face of the Korean, he snickered. 'You look like a stunned mullet, (you look as if you have no clue what I'm saying') Once more the redhead fired a fist directly at Steve's arm. The man pulled back. 'Seriously, you're a galah. Chill out, will ya?' (galah = loud, rude person)

- a couple of hours into the process.

''Rang! Mate, wake up! I think that Kazama fella is leaving!' Steve shouted, violently shaking the redhead with force. 'Wake up, damn it!' cracking one eye open, the Korean rubbed a hand through his heavy eyes, yawning whilest stretching. 'Wha.. what is it?' the blonde nodded at the flock of people leaving the building, and seemed to chitchat on the driveway. Hwoarang jumped up, lowering the window in order to catch any of the currently held conversations. Steve sunk lower into his seet, yanking the Korean's arm. 'You really think that such a fond idea, 'Rang? They could spot ya!' the 26-year old only made a hand-gesture, continuning the eavesdropping act. Once both Kazama and Mishima had left the scene, Hwoarang felt like he could release the air he had been sucking in. 'I don't get it .. I thought all hell was gonna break loose ..' Steve wrapped his arms behind his head, breathing a sigh of relief. 'I'm glad that's over with. Now .. where do you need me to drop you off, mate?' It seemed almost unreal to Hwoarang, witnessing the Kazama-Mishima family leave together, no deaths, no explosions, no demon possessions .. There has to be more to it, Hwoarang thought, aiming his gaze at one of the top floor windows. He noticed a light switch on, curtains being openend and a person poking his head outside, looking directly at the black Peugot. Hwoarang's heart sank into his shoes. 'Floor it, fox! We've been caught' He yelled as he banged his hand on the car roof, when the car dashed off.

'Now mate, returning once more to my question. Where would you like me to drop you off?' Steve politely asked, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. Feeling somewhat dissapointed, the Korean gazed out of the window, his hand supporting his chin. Steve noticed the sudden heavy atmosphere that had taken over the formely fierce tae kwon do fighter. He patted his friend's shoulder, smiling briefly, before returning his full attention on the road. 'Don't sob, matey. At least it is now confirmed that Lars doesn't need to fear for his life,' The attempt to lighten the mood hadn't gained the expected reaction. 'It's a right turn in 5 Mississippi's, just go straight until the road ends,' Hwoarangs voice whispered, holding his gaze glued on the surroundings outside, the passing trees, neonlights, billboards and traffic signs. Once arrived at the dead end the Korean had mentioned, Steve shot a perplexedly glance at their surroundings. Just a mere dead end, shrouded in afforestation, nothing else. Steve looked at the Korean, who was taking his time to realize they had come to a stop. ' 'Rang, no offence mate, I dig nature and those bullocks, but ... don't tell me you actually live IN the woods..,' the Korean still showed no response, mindlessly staring out of the window. 'Oi, Hwoarang!'

The redhead looked up, shaking his head in confusion, he turned to the blonde man. 'Oh.. I'm so- .. than- .. yeah .. See ya, Fox,' he was, however, stopped when Steve grabbed his arm. 'Mate.. I can't really look around the obvious fact that you've been star fucked by them Kazama's. Are you gonna manage on yo' own?'  
Hwoarang nodded, but Steve didn't feel right leaving the 26-year old alone right now. He pulled the redhead back into the car, locking the doors.  
Tangled up in confusion, the Korean looked at the Brittish man. 'What ..why would you.. ?'  
'I think it's best you have a good night's rest at my place, mate. Just accept this Brittish man's kind offer, won't ya?' the blonde smiled.  
Hwoarang cursed Fox in his mind. Fucking polite brit-boy. Persuasive bastard with those good manners. FUCK MEN !

- -

'He' we are. I'll go fetch you some undies, and prep yo' bed. Why don't you help yo'self cool down with a much needed shower, hothead,' Steve spoke, tossing the keys to his appartement onto the dresser, pushing the redhead towards the bathroom door. 'If there's anything you need, just ask. I'm in the room right next to this one,' Hwoarang sighed, but accepted the offer of a nice long, hot shower. I'd had been months since he had an actual shower, he would mostly just get a bucket of water and simply freshen himself up. Whilest stripping down, he noticed how tidy, small but cozy the place was. And for a worldchampion titleholding boxer, Hwoarang expected the man to live in welth, much like Kazama, Mishima and Chaolan did. Yet he seemed to prefer a simple lifestyle. Living in a small appartement, driving around in an average car.. Standing underneath the showerhead and feeling the hot water rays crash down onto his body, Hwoarang lost himself into the sudden proximity of luxury. Red strands of hair, leaving an orange color mixed with the clear water. The fact that his hair dye was coloring the water, didn't seem to bother the man at all. Brushing the soaked strands of hair out of his face, Hwoarang busted himself thinking about Jin Kazama. He didn't seem to be able to let the strange events go as they just didn't make any fucking sense to him. The sudden shout piercing the crashing water, made his eardrum vibrate. 'Steve?' He shouted, turning the water off and waiting for a answer, he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the blonde's knuckles violate the door. ' 'Rang? Mate, I prepped the guestroom, eveything's sleeping-ready. I'll leave some towels and undies outside the door, okay? I'm heading in for tonight, so I guess goodnight and I'll see you tomorrow,' Letting his head rest against the bathroom wall tiles, Hwoarang smiled. Brittish folks sure are hospitable, he had missed that.


	10. Chapter 10

At the Kazama residence, two big hands were held at each side of Jin's head, putting so much pressure that each induvidual vain was showing. Supressed memories, meant to be kept hidden in the deep and darkness of the back of his mind, were blooming to life, flashing through what remained of his sane mind, ever since the infected genes - that his father had passed onto him - slowly began to blend with his healty genes, and would eventually outnumber them. Another supressed memory ..

~~ _'Jin, no matter what ever will happen to me .. ' Jun bend down to kiss Jin's forehead gently, stroking a few of his black bangs behind his ear. ' .. Know that you will be smiled upon_,' ~~

Jin squeezed his heavy eyelids shut, clenching his jaws. His body was begging to make it stop, as every memory could be compared to a match, and the heavy emotions that followed, as something extremely flameable. The more memmories he would get, the more hatred and heartbroken he'd feel, and let's say the infected genes seemed to feed on those emotions. Jin knew that in order to controll the rise of the demon inside, he had to find a way to make the memmories fade and to numb his own thoughts. And recently he'd gotten into the bad habbits of taking large amounts of sleeping pills and anti depressants. A sharp sensation ran through his head, other memories..

_~~ 'It is obvious you master an unique variant of the traditional Karate, Jin. Are you sure you want to learn the traditional-style Karate?'_  
_Jin tightened the gloves he was wearing, patting his thies as he got up to meet the Sensei's eyes. 'Yes. I want to discard the martial arts I currently make use of,' ~~_

_~~ 'Jiiiin!' A girl wearing her hair in pigtails, ran towards him, hugging him tightly, as if she hadn't seen him in years, yet in reality it would've only been about 3 hours. 'Xiao..' a faint smile spread across the raven-haired man's face. The girl followed him until they reached the school's entrance gate. 'I'll see you tomorrow, Jin'! Xiaoyu kissed him on the cheek, waving as she ran towards her best friend, Miharu. Jin threw his schoolbag over his broad shoulder as he left the school property. ~~_

Jin screamed in anger, tears welling up in the corners of his mind. The flood of memories continued.

_~~ 'I couldn't care less about your mother, boy. She was probably killed by Ogre,' Jin couldn't believe what he heard his father say. The distant and heartless manner of speech, giving off the feeling that he had lost his last remaining part of humanity._  
_'Don't expect me to hold your hand, son. You're 19, and according to the law, you're an adult. You leave the house next week, no arguments,' Jin gasped and watched in silence as his father left the room. ~~_

A shaking hand reached for the empty glass on the night stand, while the other managed to squeeze a little white pill out of its plastic wrapper. Breathing heavily and vision flickering between a clear focus and darkness, the 26 year old man stumbled into the large bathroom. Once water had filled half of the emptiness the glass held, Jin eagerly tossed the pill in the back of his throat, drowning it with a little amount of water. He rubbed his trembling fingers through his eyes, as he saw his pale reflection in the wall-mirror. He knew that he had little time left to surpress the slow but fierce rise of his demon. His increasing heartbeat had reached such a fast pace, it started to scare him. Despite this being one of the many times he had experienced this, it always scared him, as he feared for his life. The harder his heart beated, the faster he felt his blood run through his veins, soon to be followed with a rush of sudden adrenaline and the body's own endorfines, trying to calm itself down and keep survival a possibility.

Jin sighed as he felt the narcotics kick in and a warm, calming feeling came over him. He leaned back, waiting for his heartbeat and breathing to return to normal, alongside his blurry vision. All the man now craved for, was the warmth of his bed, his safe haven. He headed for the master bedroom, smiling faintly, as he thought of the sleep he would be getting any moment now. Throwing his sedated body on the kingsized bed, Jin was once again greeted by the same thought he had for the past 7 years now. 'What if I just ended it myself?' He had considered the thought of taking his own life, several times, yet ... when he was about to proceed such a deed, the demon inside would unleash itself, preventing its host from no longer giving him life, and a body to act his evil deeds. The desire to live had left the only Kazama son years ago, and even the honor of acting out a suicide, was taken from him, by one of the main reasons he even wanted to end it. Jin wrapped the sheets around him, resembling a cocoon. He smelled the scent of washing-powder and a faint remaining touch of his own cologne, that seemed to have been lingering in the fabric.

- - - -

'Tell me, brothers dear..' a Chinese man said, looking up to meet the gaze of one of his female servants, while she lit his cigar. Once she noticed thatt a pair of hazel eyes had met hers, a faint blush crept upon her cheeks. She bowed deeply, departing from the room, so her master could get back on with the conversation he was having with his guests. A confident grin decorated the silver-haired man. He loved intimidating his servants, either male or female, the females clearly being intimidated more easily. Kazuya clearing his throat made Lee aware of the anticipation his guests must've been feeling, allowing him to continue his sentence. 'Loosen up, big brother, everything on its time. No need to get impatient .. although that always has been a foul personality-trait of yours ..' Lars started to feel rather uneasy as he watched the raven-haired man raise a bushy eyebrow, with a look on his face that said he could snap Chaolan's neck any second. 'Cut to the chase, fairy,' Kazuya's stern voice stated. Lee smirked viciously, licking his perfectly formed lips as he shot a glance towards his elder brother. It amused Lee whenever his actions got onto Kazuya's nerves. He loved seeing the 50 year old Mishima's eye twitch, signaling the man was about to hand out a couple of his trademark deathglares, soon to be followed by the common fist-fights between him and his brother. Oh, how he loved it. The sadistic pervert Lee Chaolan was..

'The reason why I asked both of you to meet me here, is because we all share the same goal..,' he breathed out a large cloud of smoke, his gaze shifting between the raven-haired Japanese- and the ash-blonde Swedish man. 'We already paid your son a visit .. I found us a rather charming welcomings-commity. Yet to no prevail, dear brothers,' Kazuya's harsh glance shifted to Lars. 'Because this waste of hair spray had to betray the Mishima family-tree and accept the offer from that ignorant offspring of mine ..,' Lars frowned, trying to come up with some smart-ass remark, but gave it a rest as he accepted the fact that he did not share those demening genes with his Mishima relatives. Lee's danty laugh broke the silence, ending the exchanging of foul glances between Kazuya and Lars. 'I fancy Lars' hairstyle, it has a .. certain wildness attached to it. I love it when men show off their wild side,' Both Kazuya and Lars sighed deeply. The ash-blonde shifted in his seat, turning his head toward the broad dark-haired man that sat next to him. 'I think it's rather ironic that you, a Mishima, dares to judge when it comes to the act of betrayal. After all, that's the fundamentation to the Mishima bloodline, isn't it? (Betrayal) Didn't I make you proud by accepting Jin's offer and 'betraying' the family, ' brother ' ?'

Kazuya clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. 'You should've stayed in Sweden, boy. You have no buisness within our family. You're an outsider, and you will never be recognized as a true, full-blooded Mishima. So betrayal adapts a new perspective in your case. Come to mention family-matters, the Mishima Zaibatsu is a company that should be run by a Mishima. Last time I checked neither you nor that blood sucking leech over there share that surname,' Lars felt his face turn into a knot, his wrists clenched at his legs. 'I'm blessed not to have been given the name Mishima. And the same goes for being raised outside of Japan, and Heihachi's parenting ways. Which are, according to your attitude and inhumane way of thinking and acting, by far the most fucked up. I mean .. fuck, Heihachi never even loved you, because if he did, he would never have had the need to adopt Lee,' Chaolan crossed his legs, amused as he watched Kazuya and Lars get at each other. Kazuya's face fell upon hearing Lars' remark. 'Do you have a deathwish, foreign-boy? I advise you to keep that nose of yours where it belongs. And assuming you already seem familiar with the family history, you should already know that we don't hesitate to kill a relative and that we feel little to no remorse by inflicting severe damage to one-another,' 


	11. Chapter 11

Lars smirked. 'That's the exact behavior your father has cursed you with, Kazuya. You both share the need to immediatly resort to violence when you feel uneasy or looked down upon. Very civilized,' Lee held his hand up when Kazuya wanted to rise onto his feet. And as much as he loved to witness the curse that laid upon anyone that either had the Mishima genes or was raised by a Mishima - the curse which was the leading cause for any Mishima relatives to feel the need to hurt each other, mentally and physically - he didn't need both of his brothers - even if not related by blood - to get into a fight. Atleast, not whilest being guests in his home. 'Lets get to the point, men. Lars sold the Mishima Zaibatsu to a Russian militairy named Sergei Dragunov. I've done some research on this person and he entered the last 3 held Iron Fist tournaments, with the mission to capture and arrest Jin Kazama. He is now the new owner of the company,' The anger inside Kazuya Mishima welled up even more, so he grabbed the Swedish man by the neck, pressing him up against the wall.

'Not only are you a betraying piece of shit, you sold the family-buisness to some Russian fuck who had militairy forces aimed at my only son!' Lee jumped up, placing a hand on the shoulder of his older brother. Kazuya's anger only increased. 'Do you have any idea what will happen if the data about the devil-gene falls into the wrong hands? Do you?! My grandfather, my son and myself need those tests done in order to understand what exactly the DG is and what it does! You nearly killed my son, swedish piece of shit!' Lars squeezed his eyes shut as Kazuya's fist got near. The cracking sound of cement and other pieces of the wall breaking into several tiny pieces, made Lars open his eyes, he realized Kazuya had missed his face by nearly an inch and had aimed at the wall instead. 'Know this, Alexandersson. The next time, it won't be the wall that will be showing some cracks,'

Lee stood infront of his brother, whiping of the dust and pieces of cement of Kazuya's knuckles. The raven-haired man looked at the Chinese man's worried facial expression, - he knew Lee was somewhat worried, because he would always bite his lower lip - and for once took the time to study the man's face. Nothing about his physical appearance gave away he was from Chinese descent, heck, if he wasn't so muscular, you wouldn't even be able to call him male or female. Kazuya noticed Lee's pale skin, which only appeared paler because of his silver feathered hair-style. Kazuya shook his head and pulled his hand back once he realized he was getting to familiar with Chaolan, and he was - in his mind - showing weakness by opening up to the emotions he had surpressed for almost half of his lifetime. Kazuya knew he didn't completely lose his humanity, but his devil genes sure killed most of it. 'I'll pay for the damage done to the wall ..' he mumbled, eagerly taking over the glass of whisky Lee had poured for him. Lars run a hand through his ash-blonde locks, watching closely as Lee Chaolan took a seat next to Kazuya Mishima - who didn't exactly look all that pleased and didn't seem to mind his (adopted) younger brother worrying over him - and started making small talk in order to calm the broad Japanese man down. 'Kazuya, Lars did what I think both of us would've done, get rid of the Mishima Zaibatsu and any of our ties to it. Granted, selling the family-buisness to a rival wasn't the best move. Atleast now we know where to go and what to do,' Lee said calmly, shifting his gaze once more between his two 'brothers'. Kazuya sent Lee a glance. 'Let's end that Russian Matroesjka's reign over the Mishima Zaibatsu,'

- -

Hwoarang opened his hazel eyes, scanning the room he had been resting in. Steve's appartement - Steve had taken Hwoarang with him after he had seen Hwoarang's mood drop when both men had been on a mission to spy on the home of Lars Alexandersson. The Korean man picked up a noise coming from far back into the appartement. He swung his legs over he side of the bed, rubbing his hands through his eyes, yawning loud. He followed the noises and reached a rather modern looking kitchen. Steve sat at the table, obviously caught up in a boxing match, the tv on the counter was playing. 'C'mon man! You've got to be pulling my chain, mate!' The sound of a chair scraping across the floor, caused the blonde to look up. A big smile spred across his lips as he greeted the Korean. 'Morning' 'Rang!,' He got up and held up a mug, Hwoarang shook his head. He wasn't the coffee-drinking kind of person. 'I hope you got some sleep,' Steve said, pouring himself some more coffee. Hwoarang sat down at the kitchen table, resting his head on his arms. His head felt heavy and had been that way ever since he had left the Alexandersson property. Between tossing and turning and breaking his head over the weird and by far unusual afairs that had been taking place lately, he did manage to sleep during the few remaining hours the night still had to offer him. Yet, to the man in question, it felt as if he had been doing hard physical labor throughout the day, slept 30 min and was woken abruptly, not being able to get any more sleep, which would leave a person grumpy and exhausted for the remaining day.

Steve noticed Hwoarang hasn't been himself ever since the word got out Jin Kazama was no longer the owner of the Mishima Zaibatsu, which could only mean that Jin Kazama officially broke all family-ties. But then again, Steve was sure that Hwoarang's ego had been hurt when it turned out that his thoughts about Lars Alexandersson, Jin Kazama's steph-uncle, being endangered by his brothers, weren't true. His blue eyes found a messy head-full of orange colored hair. 'Oi, 'Rang. I think it wouldn't be such a mad idea if you wen to visit that Kazama bloke, ney?' Hwoarang's head rose so he was facing the Brittish man. Seeing the Korean man raise an questioning eyebrow, Steve came to regret this thought. 'Listen .. It is quite obvious that Jin Kazama is an important part of your life. Being a good or a bad one held aside, I think you either need to continue the rivalry or end it and call it a truce,' Hwoarang bit his lip, some of what Steve had said held some truth, yet he didn't want to be known as the rival who desperately followed his foe in his every move, even the idea of apologizing and admitting a diffrent truth, made his stomach turn into a knot.

Hwoarang got up and headed toward the bathroom. 'I'm gonna take a shower..' he had mumbled before leaving a frowning Steve in the kitchen. As the blonde gathered his plate and mug to place them in the dishwasher, the 8-bit sound of Pokéballs being healed up in a PokéCenter vibrated his eardrums, leaving the man to grunt. Upon opening the text message and reading its content, the man sighed. A set of knuckles violated a wooden door, causing the person behind it to flinch. 'Rang, mate? There has been an incident at my gym. I'll have to go out there and see what's going on. Will you manage on your own?' The sound of the water numbing down indecated that the Korean had heard the Brittish man. Hwoarang turned his head to face the bathroom door. 'Yeah. Go ahead, I'll be fine,' Steve had turned around so his back was facing the door, but turned around fairly quickly. 'Oi, Rang? Try to eat something, mate. I'll be back soon,'

Hwoarang listened as the sound of Steve's footsteps became more distant and fainter, and let his forhead fall gently against the white tiles on the wall as he heard a door slam shut. Aside from the calm streaming water, the house had been filled with silence. The man sighed deeply, and thought about how he had come from wanting to end Jin Kazama's life to being kidnapped by his assassin, to end up in the appartement of a boxer from England. He clenched his fist and watched as the water crashed onto the wet skin and exploded into thousands of smaller water particles. Yes, Steve had been right. Jin Kazama was indeed an important part of his life, but placing the right adjective infront of it, still seemed a difficulty. Did he LIKE Kazama as a friend or an acquaintance? Or was it just the healty dose of male rivalry that kept his spirit alive?

- -

Leo Kliessen opened his eyes, as his ears caught the sound of a voice in the distance. Was this Sergei's voice? Curiousity got the best of the 19-year old German. Once he got up, he felt a tight sensation around his neck, causing him to bring a hand near it and reflect on what and when this was caused. Despite the odd sensation, Leo seemed determined to get as near to the Russian man as he could, so he could hear the man's voice once and for all. Sneaking through the many hallways, made Leo almost want to give up the search, but then he thought about how he had travelled all the way to Japan, only to get revenge on heihachi Mishima. Lost in thoughts, Leo didn't notice a door being opened, and an amused male figure watching him mumble to himself in frustration upon not finding the room the voice had been coming from. Still mumbling, Leo bumped into a tall figure lingering over him. Ofcourse .. No other than Sergei Dragunov wore a faint smile on his lips. Leo quickly got into his fight stance and glared at the taller male. 'Was denken sie zu tun? holen sie sich kein komische Ideen im Kopf!' (What do you think you are doing? Don't get any weird ideas!' Sergei said not a word, and simply stepped aside, allowing the blonde to enter the dining room. Leo cautiously entered the room, observing his surroundings, taking in as many details as he could.

The dark-haired man closed the door and returned to his seat at the dining table. 'hätten sie Frühstück? Ich wollte sie nicht stören .. ' (_Were you having breakfast? I didn't mean to interrupt_) Gesturing to an empty seat, Sergei resumed to eating some kind of croissant, filled with loads of butter. Leo took a seat across from the man and gazed at the foods on the table. 'Ich habe sie hören sprechen .. das bedeutet das sie in der Lage sind zu sprechen,' (_I just heard you speak, so that means you are able to speak._) Sergei rested a cup back on its plate and simply nodded. Leo smiled in a victorious manner. 'Wenn sie in der Lage sind zu sprechen, warum tun sie es dann nicht? Bin ich nicht gut genug um Ihre Stimme zu hören?' (_If you are able to speak, then why don't you? Aren't I good enough to hear your voice?_) Sergei shuckled, gently pushing a basket filled with croissants toward the blonde. 'Dürfen sie nicht glauben das ich dieses Fallenlass! Aber .. ich bin irgendwie hungrig ..' _(Don't you even think I'm dropping this! But .. I am kinda hungry._.)

Leo took one of the croissants and inspected it thouroughly. 'Gibt es eine Chance, dass sie diese vergiftet haben? Ich vertrau sie nicht, und meine Mutter hat mir immer gesagt, Geschenke von Fremden nie zu akzeptieren ..' _(Is there a chance you've poisoned this? I still don't trust you .. and my mother always told me to never accept gifts from strangers .._) The Russian man cracked a laugh, making his voice a little more audiable. Leo blinked a couple of times. 'Sie lachen wie ein normaler Mensch .. ich glaube fast, das mit Ihre Stimme nichts falsch ist ..' (_You laugh like a normal person .. I'm almost believing nothing is wrong with your voice.._) The man cleared his throat, and calmly shook his head. he then pointed at Leo's robe. The blonde casted a glance at his attire. 'Meine Kleidung? Ich ließ sie in dem Raum die sie mich gegeben hast. Sind sie ein Art von raffinierte Person die Gäste förmlich gekleidet am Tisch erwartet?' (_my clothes? I left them in the room you gave me ..are you some kind of refined person that expects guests to dress formally at the table?_) Sergei nodded with a rather serious look on his face. Leo raised an eyebrow. 'Ernsthaft? Wollen Sie das ich mich verändert werden?' (_Seriously? Do you want me to go change?_) Once again, the man simply nodded, continuing his breakfast.


	12. Chapter 12

'Mr. Kazama, what were your intentions by selling the Mishima Zaibatsu?' a blonde asked when a group of men left  
Jin Kazama's office after an urgent meeting. She watched as the man got up and made his way over to the window.

'I desire to be no longer tied to the dreadful actions that company was held responsible for,'

Nina shook her head as none of it seemed to make any sense. 'Why sell to rivals, Jin? I am aware that you wish for nothing but to put an end to your grandfathers reign .. I still don't see why letting the company slip frop your grasp would get close to that objective,'

The ravenhaired ex-CEO turned to face his most trustworthy employee in years.  
'Don't pain your mind, Nina. This is going according to plan. Which also means ..' he opend a drawer and threw a dossier on the oak-wood desk.

'your services are no longer needed,'

Furrowing her eyebrows in incomprehension, Nina's blue eyes followed Jin as he shrouded his broad frame in a long, black coat.

'I overheard you gave birth to a son, a while before you were put into Cyrosleep. Why don't you search for him and give motherhood a try?'  
having said that, Jin left the nearly empty office that once served as a second home for his relatives.

hwoarang took a drag from his cigaret as he sat infront of the Mishima Zaibatsu.  
The fag soon came to a crash on the concrete underneath the Korean's feet. The sound of automatic doors opening caught his attention, and as soon as he turned his head, his fists began to tremble with anger at the sight of Jin Kazama. he rose onto his feet and approached the man. the memories of his actions earliers, still fresh in his mind.

**'Kazama!' **

Jin, who held a mobile phone in his hand, squeezed his eyes shut upon recognizing the barking voice and ended the conversation. Facing the Korean, the former-CEO sighed deeply, pinching the brow of his nose with his thumb and indexfinger in frustration.

'i gaejasig a ! _(You son of a bitch!)_' the redhead spat.  
'I advise you to restrain the usage of the words 'bitch' and 'mother' in the same sentence when you are adressing me,'  
'dangsin-eun myeonglyeong-eul jegong hal su eobs-eum wichi eissda! _(You are in no position to be giving commands, Kazama)_,'  
'Why is that?'  
'dangsin-eun ttong boda deo amugeosdo eobs-seubnida. geugeos-i e ol ttae , dangsin-eun dangsin-ui manghan abeoji ui jeonghwaghan bogje ppun-iya . dangsin-eun dangsin-ui jasin-ui agmaleul jigmyeon honja wonsuleul namgyeo do hal su eobs-seubnida. nal mid-eo , kajama , dangsin-eun salamdeul-ui manh-eum-eul gajigo issseubnida,'  
(_You are nothing more than a Kazama piece of shit. And when it comes to it, you're nothing but an exact clone of your fucked up father. You aren't even able to face your own demons, leave alone your enemies. And trust me, Kazama, you've got plenty of __those)_

Jin flashed a grin, quite similair to his father's, the only thing missing was an illuminating red iris.  
'Perhaps your pitheous words hold some kind of truth, yet once more I will declare my state of apathy upon getting my face rubbed into those accusations.  
I accede it, and I have years ago. No reason left for me to deny or fight my past, present or future. You are right, hwoarang. Now, if you'd kindly get ouf of my face, I've got meetings to attend,'

hwoarang grabbeb Jin by the arm, keeping the man from walking away.  
'dangsin-eun na-egeseo kajama eul pogihaji masibsio. naneun uliui ijeon sujib e gwanhan yaggan-ui seolmyeong hadabnida saeng-gaghabnida!'  
_(Don't you walk away from me, Kazama. I believe I'm entitled to some explanation concerning our previous gathering)_

Two dark orbs traced across the Korean's facial features, breathing out a sigh, with the knowledge of giving in to the man eventually.

'What do you want?' Jin's deep voice spoke, freeing his arm out of the Korean's grip.

hwoarang let his head fall a little, causing messy auburn strands of hair to caress his face. 'yaegileul . geunyang iyagi .. (_To talk. Just talk ..)_'

* * *

Blue eyes watched a pale face as het sat at the table. 'Warum halten Sie mich als Geisel?' _(why are you holding me hostage?)_

The man that sat across from him merely took a subtle sip of freshly made coffee.  
A sigh escaped from Leo's lips. 'Ich bekomm keine Ton aus dir, nicht wahr?' _(I'm not getting any sound out of you, aren't I?)_

Sergei rose on to his feet, grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and ruffled the 19-year old's blonde mane.

'Ich habe Sie nie gesehen wie der Raucher art von Kerl .. ' _(I never saw you as the smoking kind of guy..)_  
Leo noted, honestly surprised to see the Russian man light a cigarette. In response, Sergei brushed off the remark by shrugging his shoulders.  
A glass ashtray soon found its place on the table, joining the cutlery, basket of bread and the two man surrounding it. Leo figured that the only way to get some answers from the man, he might need to reconsider his approach.

'Also .. Würde Sie es bevorzugen wenn ich Sie Ja-oder-Nein Frage stelle?' _(so .. would you prefer me asking you yes-or-no questions?)_

A nod from the head by the older male, followed by the sounds of a newspaper being picked up.

'hmm... habe Ich Recht wenn ich an nehme das Sie eine Beziehung haben mit heihachi Mishima?' _(Am I right when I assume you have connections to " .. ")_

The man silenty shook his head.

Leo then continued. 'Was ist Ihre Beziehung mit Jin Kazama?'_ (What is your connection to Jin Kazama?)_

Sergei's lips curled into a smile, another shake from the head.

The German knitted a set of eyebrows together, realizing his question couldn't be answered with either yes or no.  
'Scheisse.. das war kein Ja-oder-Nein Frage..' _(Shit.. that wasn't a yes-or-no question)_  
'Das wäre viel einfacher wenn man nur sprechen würde!' (_This would be much easier if you'd just speak!'_)  
'Arbeiten Sie für Jemanden?' _(Do you work for some-one?)_

Sergei's scarred, shadow colored lips pouted for a moment. The man paused before eventually nodding.

'Wären Sie nicht ein Militär?' _(Weren't you a militairy?)_

Another silent nod.

'Also arbeiten Sie für die Russische Regierung?_ (So you work for the Russian government)_  
Nahmen Sie teil an der Tekken Turnier in Befehl der Russischen Regierung? (_Did you enter the Tekken tournament in order from the Russian government?)_

Another nod added to the heap.

Leo narrowed his eyes, never averting his gaze from the Russian man. 'Sie arbeitet nicht für heihachi Mishima?' _(You don't work for "..")_  
The blonde lowered his head. A wave of guilt had hit him as he realized he targeted Sergei Dragunov for no good reason.

"Denn hätte ich mich geirrt. Es tut mir leid .. ' _(Then I was wrong. I'm sorry..)_

Sergei folded the paper, shifting his gaze to his 'guest'. Leo looked up to see a pair of blue, leaning to nearly white colored eyes, look straight into his powder blue ones, as he brought a glass of water up to his lips.  
'Stimmt etwas nicht?' _(Something wrong?)_

The tall man stood up straight, retrieving a pen and a little note block from a desk drawer. Curiousity took over the 19-year old German boy as he saw Sergei scribble something down. he looked up when the paper was shoved towards him.

he let his eyes fly across the line of Russian letters or symbols .. whatever it was.

'Es tut mir leid .. aber ich kann kein Russisch lesen... Ich verstehe ein Bisschen Russisch.. Aber ich erkenne das letzte Wort .. das bedeutet 'Mutter', doch?'  
_(I'm sorry, but I can't read Russian. I understand a little Russian, but I do recognize the last words .. it means Mother, right?)_

Short-lived strokes resulted in an English translation on the backside of the small piece of paper.

**You look like my mother.**

'Wirklich? .. Ich weiss nicht was ich sagen soll .. _(Really? I don't know what to say..)_

'Would you mind stopping that? Jin Kazama asked as he slowly started to lose his patience with the Korean, who didn't seem to take notice of Kazama's remark, as he continued staring at the Japanese man.  
The Korean had aggreed to Jin's proposal to have a drink at a small bar in the abandoned alleys of Yakushima. The place itself was pint-sized, with few customers. Some bad depressive American songs played in the back ground,  
and the only audiable sound came from two drunk buisnessman sitting at the bar, laughing aloud and discussing whatever crossed their dazed minds. The location suited Jin Kazama's persona, lonesome and depressive.

Chestnut eyes shot up at the sound of an aggrevated voice. 'eung?' _(huh?)_

Jin crossed his legs. Eyes closed. 'Staring at me. It's making me feel uncomfortable,'

The Korean repositioned himself, pushing a few strands of hair back. Dark eyes opened, revealing a trademark empty look.

'May I ask why so timid all of a sudden?'

hwoarang frowned, lips pressed into a thin line. The words his friend Steve Fox spoke earlier, still fresh, haunted his mind. he had one chance, and one chance only to patch things up with his long time rival.

'naneun aa ... .. I anhneunda!' _(I am not .. I .. argh!')_ The redhead rubbed his eyes with a pair of fingers.

The ravenhaired man raised an eyebrow, arms firmly crossed against the red dress shirt that covered his flawless, broad built chest. 'You alright?'

"dangsin-i museun sang-gwan ijyo ?' _(Do you care?)_

'Why wouldn't I?'

hwoarang tilted his head, fingers curled around a bottle of beer. 'ulineun nyeon dong-an seololeul silh-eo,' _(We've hated each other for years,)_

Jin shook his head, the loose locks of black hair surrounding his eyes, danced allongside the sudden movement.  
'Correction:** YOU'VE** hated _me_ for years.** I couldn't care less**, to be honest,'


	13. Chapter 13

'I'm not used to not hearing you bark loads of insults at me. It's a nice change of pace,' Jin brought his bottle of beer to his lips, letting the intense aftertaste of the alcohol flavored drink invade his tastebuds.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a broad man walk in to the bar. he could've sworn he had seen that man elsewhere, as his grey short-trimmed hair drew his attention. A scar graced the man's oddly pale face as it ran from his brow, down to his lower cheek. Adding to his already macabre exterior. The man seemed to take in his surrounds, his head slowly shifted from one side to another. A tiny glass was placed infront of him, most likely some kind of strong liquor, it seemed natural for a peculiar figure like that to fancy all the strongest kinds of poison around.

'Kazama .. I've been thinking some stuff over. And one question burns on my tongue,' hwoarang spoke, his voice died near the end of his sentence. The Korean man wasn't sure whether having this conversation with a man he had always seen as a rival, was one of the brightest ideas he had in a while. But it seemed that Steve's words had made an impact on him, leaving him uncertain to what he felt concerning Jin Kazama.

'What.. am I to you, Kazama?'

The Japanese man placed his beer bottle back on the table, maintaining his detached, uncaring posture. 'An **acquaitance**,'

Jin's cold, harsh words stabbed right through the protective bubble hwoarang had created. Something Jin Kazama was nutorious for.

'You don't see me as a rival then?'

The ravenhaired male rubbed the tip of his nose. 'No. Why do you ask?'

hwoarang took a firm hold on his bottle, playing aroud with it, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't sound like a desperate schoolgirl being rejected by a first love.

'It crossed my mind.. and to be honest, Kazama.. I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't have you aroud. Eh.. our fights are a great way for me to relieve some stress and bottled up emotions..'  
The Korean bit his lip, quickly gulping down some beer in an attempt to deal with whatever heartless answer the other man would throw at him.

_Yet no such thing happened._

'It's nice to hear that,'

A full head of messily slicked back auburn hair dances as its owner nodded. 'So ...you see, in a way.. you're more than just a rival. You're also my motivational drive,'

'how so? All you do is stalk me during the tournaments, challenge me to fights .. and insult me in quite a bold fashion,' Jin said calmly.

The 21-year old nearly choked on his apology. 'You know Goddam well what I'm trying to say, Kazama! Don't push me, I **can't say it out loud,' **

A set of perfectly shaped lips turned to a small smile. 'Are you apologizing to me?'

hwoarang nodded, taking another sip of his, close to empty, beer bottle. 'So ..you accept my apologies?'

Jin inspected hwoarang's desperate facial expression. 'Not sure what I should do with those at the moment,'

'Okay. That I can understand. I'd probably react the same .. ' a pair of hands were held up in a defensive manner.

Jin's smile deepened. 'Though I appreciate your honesty,'

The Korean breathed out a sigh of disconcern. 'Yeah .. lets not make this any more awkward then it already is. Okay, Kazama?'

Kazama shifted in his seat, crossing his arms once more. 'What exactly do you hope to gain from this, hwoarang?'

'The .. reassurance you'll stay around and serve as my personal punching bag?' hwoarang spat as he started to feel the first silent effects of the alcohol.

'I'm not a servant thatyou can call for when you need their services,'

hwoarang raised an eyebrow. 'That's not what I meant!'

Jin crossed the other leg. 'Sounded like it,'

'Don't make me say it, you fucking bastard!'

Jin's eyes shot fire upon hearing the word '_bastard_'. 'Then don't,'

the redhead mentally slapped himself for what he was about to say. 'I need you.. in a brother-like way, God damn it!' Don't get any weird ideas! ... Not that you are able to ..you're probably still a fucking virging **- 3 -** ,'

The Japanese man's face fell, and scraped his throat. Sexual intimacy wasn't a subject he enjoyed discussing. 'That's inapropriate. You don't mention another person's private life if you've got no in-formal relationship. That's just rude,'

hwoarang wore a grin than reached from ear to ear. 'Do I look like I care, Kazama? I just know you are, I'm telling the truth. I thought you Japanese were so keen on that,'

Jin shook his head disapprovingly, sipping his beer. 'Even if I were, what's it to you?'

'Because it would be both hillarious and sad. I mean .. you're getting closer to the 30's. C'mon Kazama, you can tell me. Are you .. a virgin?'

Jin chuckled. 'You'd be the last person I'd provide such information. Besides, how would you feel if I'd ask you such impudent questions?'

As the Korean raised an arm to order another drink, he faced Jin. 'Give it your best shot,'

'I bet you **sucked** Baek-san's dick multiple times,'

hwoarang nearly choked once again, this time on his new, fresh and cool beer. 'That's not cool, man! That's my master you're talking about! Fuck you man .. fucking virgin,'

'You still let Baek-san **touch** you,'

' ** '** Don't say such weird things!'

A genue laugh left Kazama's lungs. 


	14. Chapter 14

As the hours passed and evening exchanged turns with night, the once calm and, as good as, empty bar started to fill up, as more people decided to ruin their liver with the cheapest alcohol available in Japan. Far in the back of the bar, two men were seated. The elder man had a notable appearance, with his blue eyes and long, straight blonde hair, it wasn't hard to tell the man wasn't Japanese. The younger one, had the outward look of an Asian person, though real  
Japanese would easily distinguish the American-Chinese male from young Japanese males. It was obvious the American was already drunk beyond recognition as he seemed to had taken part in a conversation which would usually result in a fist fight.

'Nah, Kiddo. Don't worry too much about it,' Paul said, wrapping an arm around his best friend's son. The boy seemed to be relieved to hear that, the concerned look on his face faded a little.

'Thank God. I thought for sure I was a dead man for getting those scratches on your ride,' Forest laughed worringly.

The blonde's face fell and a shadow crept upon his rough features. 'I'm drunk, kid,' he stated, only to see fear take over a smooth looking young face.  
Forest cursed under his breath, telling himself what kind of idiot he must've been for even considering riding Paul's motorcycle in secrecy. Paul was gonna kill him fair and square, and he couldn't blame the man if he did.

'I'm gonna die after you sober up, right?'

Paul nodded eagerly. 'Yup!'

Bryan Fury's white mane instantly caught Paul's eye and he sat up straight. 'Look who's here! The world's mostfucked up ex-cop!'

Paul's words didn't miss their target, and Bryan Fury turned his head to take notice of the person who thought they had the balls to adress him.  
Paul Phoenix, a faint grin crept upon his lips. he grabbed his drink and made his way over to their table.

'Phoenix.. ' The ex-officer leaned on the table, still grinning like a mad-man. 'On a date with every Tekken fighter's wet dream, I see.'  
he brought his face closer to Forest's. 'Better not tell daddy,'

Forest backed away immediatly. There was something about this man .. Bryan Fury, that made him feel so insignificant, so small .. unsafe. Perhaps it was the vicious grin plastered on his face, the greyish white hair, the dark shadows that surrounded his eyes, or that bigg-ass scar on the left side of his face .. it could also have something to do with the pale color or his skin .. it didn't look remotely human.. it just wast too pale and discolored. Nah it was probably the combination of all of the above.

'What do you mean by every Tekken fighter's wet dream, mr. Fury?!'

Yet the only answer he received was the most disturbing laughter he'd ever heard in his life.

Paul managed to catch up with the current conversation, despite being held up in his struggle to stay concious. he sure drank a shitload of alcohol tonight ...  
'W-what's .. up with that.. zombie-man?' he slurred, nearly drooling all over the table. Bryan raised an eyebrow as he saw the disgusting body fluids leave the 48-year old man's mouth.

'Use that piece of meat between your ears, ape-man,'

Paul let his head rest on his arms, his head was being devoured by nausea and dizziness. 'I .. know it's .. sex-related, Fury!'

The 27-year old American-Chinese man emptied his glass in one shot. It didn't went unnoticed by the cyborg.

'Not to worry, kid. I'm sure Phoenix will keep groping hands at a distance,'

Groaning, Paul lifted his head and tried to focus on one of the 3 blurry Bryan Fury's he saw standing in front of him.  
'What the .. Are ya .. comming onto Forest, Fury?!'

The grey-haired cyborg rolled his eyes back, sending the drunk a death glare. 'Louzy drunk..'

'Shut up, Fury! Marshall wll never approve of that. he'd kill you if he'd ... f-find out!'

The blackhaired male frowned, letting his head fall down. 'Paul .. Mr. Fury wasn't .. -'  
' Besides.. you're too .. old for tha boy, cop!'

Forest and Bryan exchanged surprised looks. 'I'm younger than I look!' -'I'm older than I look!' the both of them shouted simultaniously.  
Forest crossed his arms against his medium sized chest. 'I'm 27 years old, I'll have you know!'

'I'm 31 .. wait. you're only 4 years younger than me?' Bryan emptied his glass, shaking his head in disbelief.  
'What is it with you Asians and barely showing any signs of aging?'  
The cyborg lighted a cigarette and offered Forest one, but the man shook his head. 'You don't look a day over 18, kid,'

Paul's head shot up once again. 'Stop f.. flirting w.. wiz For..st! Marshall's .. gonna kill me..' the man burped loudly, letting his head fall down on to the table again. Bryan shifted his cold glare to Paul, breathing out a cloud of smoke in his direction.

'I recommend you to shut the fuck up, Phoenix. I'm starting to lose my patience...'

Forest placed a gentle hand on Bryan's shoulder, causing the cyborg's system to register a touch, which resulted in the man turning his headd toward Forest.  
Forest noticed the threatening glance in the man's eyes and pulled his hand back.  
"With all due respect.. but Paul doesn't know any better at the moment, Mr Fury..'

The 31-year old man's eyes inspeccted Paul Phoenix's sleeping, sedated, drooling form once more. 'Disgusting piece of shit..'  
Forest tried to shake the blonde American, in an attempt to wake him up, but ceized his actions as he heard Bryan speak.

'Don't bother kid. he won't budge,'

'I can't just leave him here. he needs to go to his hotel and sleep it off,'

'The guy is 48-years old, let him solve his own problems,' And having said that, Bryan returned to his seat at the bar.

Just as soon as Bryan took his seat at the bar in the front, his systems registered an entity entering the surroundings. As he looked up to decide whether this person could be a threat or not, the rough facial features of no other than **Miguel Rojo** caught his eyes. The dark, wild, mildly curled hair hung slickly around his face, mouth area showing signs of a much needed shave soon, and bags underneath a pair of eyes which meant the man had already been drinking throughout the day. It was Miguel's self destructive personality that amused Bryan intensly. The Spanish man didn't care about anything or anyone _(besides his sister before death)_, and Bryan could definetlatly relate to that. As Miguel reached the bar, he greeted Bryan.

Forest saw both man shake hands, and turned back to Paul. 'Damn you, Paul ..' the man breathed silently. Not aware of the man approaching him.

'Forest?'

Forest looked up to see a handsome man dressed in a formal shirt and distressed jeans and sneakers. his honey blonde locks were slicked back, reveiling his piercing blue eyes and dark, thin eyebrows. Despite being a boxer and despite getting a lot of punches to the face, this man still looked stunning.

'Oh .. Mr. Fox, right?'

Steve flashed a big smile, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. 'No need to be so formal. Just call me Steve,'

The man spoke with a slight Brittish accent, though the time he'd lived in America due to the bounty on his head from some Mafia family, it was noticable he had picked up the American English accent pretty easily. Steve pointed at the empty seat at the table and smiled. 'Do you mind?'  
Forest waved his hands. 'No. No, not at all. By all means, please have a seat. After Paul knocked himself out, I was left worrying what to do next. Mr. Fury told me to just leave him here, but I don't know about that ...'  
Steve frowned a little, and let his chin rest in the palm of his hand, while looking at a sleeping, drooling Paul Phoenix.  
'Ofcourse Bryan would say such a thing. he's an insensitive bugger,'  
Forest sighed. 'What do you suggest I do, Steve?' Steve smiled. 'Just let him sleep it off. he'll sober up soon enough,'

The American-Chinese man snorted. 'Sure hope not so soon ..'  
Steve cocked a curious eyebrow, moving his gaze to Forest's worried expression. 'Why?'  
'I wrecked his ride ..'

Forest stretched out. 'So.. how are you doing?'  
'Ain't complaining. But I need to start training soon if I want to be in shape in time for the second Tekken Tag tournament. Are you gonna be in it?'  
Forest raised a fist. 'Sure thing!'  
Steve smiled brightly, and bumped his beer bottle against Forest's. 'Maybe we'll have a round together then, Mate!'


	15. Chapter 15

Bryan eyed the glass he held in his hand. 'Rojo, you in the Tag tournament?'  
The Spanish man that sat next to him was staring in the distance, before his head shot up and he turned toward Bryan. '..You can count on it,'  
The glass formerly clenched in a cyborg's loose grip, now stood still on the oakwood surface of the bar. 'I can't wait to break some bones and shatter some dreams!' Bryan hissed snake-like. A grin seemed permanently glued onto his lips. Miguel let a short-lived laugh be heard, before emptying the remaining alcohol inside his glass. 'Saddistic fuck,'

Bryan cracked the fine bones in his neck, stretching his arms and spine in the process. 'Look who's talking. Stabbing bulls to death for the sake of tradition,' Miguel eyed his drinking buddy for a moment, but continued staring into the distance again. 'Someone has to do it,'  
'Eh, Bryan .. who're you teaming up with?'  
The white-maned male simply chuckled, nodding to the barkeeper as his glass got refilled once more. 'I might consider going solo. Ain't nobody laying a fucking finger on me. I can easily take on two of 'em,'  
Miguel smirked as he held out his hand towards Bryan. 'Buddy.. how 'bout a little Furia Roja?'  
With a grin taking over his pale features, Bryan took Miguel's hand. 'Red Fury, I like the sound of that!'  
'Now let's drink! I've got a whole fucking liver to fuck up!'  
Bryan laughed. 'You're a guy to my heart, Rojo! Another round!' 

* * *

Steve looked around to see if he recognized some of the faces. he saw Jin Kazama and hwoarang, and Miguel and Bryan.  
'Looks like they are having a blast over there..'  
Forest followed Steve's gaze and saw Miguel and Bryan bumping their glasses together. 'Seems like it. Do you think they will team up?'  
A head of honeyblonde locks, nodded. 'Looks like it. I can't imagine anyone else with the amount of balls Miguel has in order to befriend Bryan,'  
Forest nodded in agreement. 'There's something macabre about that man ..'  
'That's beside obvious, mate,' 

* * *

Another 2 hours had passed, the morning sunrise was just a few hours away. Bryan Fury and Miguel Rojo were now as drunk as a man could be, both laughing with some nonsence they'd discuss in their dazed state. It brought back memories of Bryan's life prior to his death and rebirth. As a cop, he got teamed up with Lei Wulong, a Chinese-American police officer. he was lumsy, but efficient and a decent fighter. After they'd finish their shift, they would go grab a drink, which most of the time ended up with Lei being a drunk fuck, whilest Bryan had to carry him home. The nonsence Lei would talk about .. Bryan snorted. Miguel got up and stumbled around, scanning the room for a possible victim and found Forest Law and Steve Fox in the back. The Spanish man took a seat next to Forest.  
'Good evening, ladies,' Bryan soon followed. he eyed Steve for a moment to make sure he saw Steve for real or if this was the alcohol burning holes into his brain.

'Britboy.. how's it hanging?'  
'Not so long from now, down that kid's throat!' Miguel laughed out loudly.

Steve knitted his eyebrow together. 'Oi, mates. I see you are enjoying the effects of alcohol abuse.. but would you mind doing it elsewhere?'  
The brunet got awfully quite upon hearing Steve's remark. 'Are you insulting me, pretty boy?'  
Forest knew exactly where this was going, but didn't exactly like being trapped in between Miguel and Steve, knowing that the Spanish man was too drunk to distinguish him from Steve.  
'Guys.. calm down, please ..'

'You are in no position to order me around, piss strain!' Miguel breathed, grabbing Forest by the collar. Steve immediatley jumped up. 'Oi! Let's not start a fight inside, 'kay guys?'  
'Can be arranged!' Miguel pulled Forrest out of his seat and tossed him at Bryan, who pushed him through the entrance door, out in the abandoned alley.  
'Ah, C'mon now!' Steve cursed, sprinting towards the entrance door. As he sees Miguel and Bryan towering over Forest, he lanches a punch to Miguel's jaw, and helpes Forest onto his feet.  
'You okay, mate?' Forrest nodded. 'I'm alive,'

Miguel got up, and cracked his knuckles whilest getting closer to Steve and Forest. 'Make it worth my while ..' Bryan only laughed his trademark insane laugh.

Steve got into his fighting stance. 'Looks like we're in for a fight. You ready Forest?'  
'Born ready! hwoaaa!' 

* * *

'That was too easy,' Miguel said rather annoyed, and followed Bryan as he walked away from the Chinese man on the ground. Steve reached out a hand for Forest to grab.  
'Forest, you okay, mate?'  
Rubbing some dirt from his behind, Forest grunted. 'I think one of them broke my nose, though..'


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the storyline. All Tekken characters belong to Namco.  
**Song I've listened to**: Sayonara no natsu - Kokuriko Zaka Kara ~ _This song is so beautiful .. _  
**Author's notes**: I realized that the last few chapters were written in a hurry.. & therefore sucked balls. | Also, I'm German/Flemish so my English is a little rusty..

* * *

hwoarang opened his eyes, for them to be greeted by darkness with a hint of illuminating moonlight. his surroundings were foreign and the fact that an alcohol induced headache made it harder to focus his eyes, was not helping at least a bit. An arm touched the cold texture of the sofa he had been sleeping on. Was it leather? The man let his legs slide down the side of it, and felt soft material underneath his bare feet. As he leaned down to have a look-see, he noticed a bordeaux carpet touching his soles. It then struck him, he definitely wasn't at his squat. The only thing touching his feet there was the sand covering, what used to be, a tiled floor. Where was he? Did he drink such an amount of alcohol that he was left unable to remember who he'd gotten home with? And if that was the case, he prayed to God that he was at some girl's place. hwoarang woke from his train of thoughts by the rumbling, almost beast-like growling, of his empty stomach.

'Shit ..' he mumbled. he was at some stranger's house and craving for food. Did he bring his cigarettes with him? Those would be able to numb the hunger feeling and saved him the search for some food in this unknown scenery. Not that he was planning to .. going on a quest for food in another person's house somehow seemed inappropriate to him. he got up and located the door to the back yard. If he was indeed going for a smoke, he might as well have the decency to do it outside. The redhead leaned against the painted black, metal ornamentation, smiling as he welcomed the much needed nicotine. his eyes wandered across the large garden decorated with great amounts of red and white roses.

'Whoever lives here must be rich as hell .. ' hwoarang thought, absorbing the flower's beauty. The night was a silent one. The wind remained stil and aside fom the sound of rushing traffic in the distance, the silence was rather earsplitting. hwoarang noticed a bright square shaped shadow illuminating the grass. As he looked up, he witnessed the awakening of the house's owner. he couldn't help but feel a little curious to who that person might be. Silence returned to gently caress the Korean's eardrums, the light disappeared and got replaced by a light switching on downstairs. hwoarang watched the glass door in anticipation. A pale face, hugged by a messy black mane, greeted him.

'I see you are awake .. ' the voice spoke, interrupted by a blunt, wide mouthed yawn. A pair of brown eyes widened upon recognition.

'K .. Kazama?'

Jin took a seat on one of the chairs. The silver moonlight accentuated his sharp features, underlining the small bags under his eyes. The Japanese man obviously lacked some sleep, but didn't seem bothered by it anymore. 'You fell asleep in the car and I didn't have the address to the squat you lived in. So I took you here,'

hwoarang nodded quietly, crashing the cigarette butt on the concrete. Though his squat was nothing compared to Jin Kazama's luxurious mansion, he never got the feeling the man looked down on him. It lessened the feeling of being a nobody, hwoarang felt crashing over him in waves. he looked at Jin, who rested his chin in the palm of his hand, silently staring at the numerous roses in adorning the garden. Almost hypnotized by their neutral red and white color.

'You've got quite a home, Kazama .. ' hwoarang spoke softly.

he almost felt guilty for snapping the man out of one of the very few peaceful moments he had in quite some time, ever since his Devil Genes awoke. A pair of dark orbs shifted to capture the face of his Korean guest, not moving a single muscle. he closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath.  
'how's the headache?' his deep voice asked in a calm fashion. Ofcourse Jin Kazama always maintained a calm posture. Until he'd let anger take over, his pure white aura would darken magnificantly, giving the man an opaque appearance.

hwoarang shrugged at the question. 'It's gradually fading. This wasn't the first time I've gotten drunk,'

Jin rubbed the back of his neck, stretching in the process. It was now that the Korean noticed that the Japanese man's hair hung down along side his face, and without his trademark Kazama-Mishima slicked back hairstyle, he looked much younger. Much more fragile.. he looked up at the man once more. he could nearly taste the horrors invading Jin's delicate mind.

'Can't sleep, eh Kazama?' the Korean asked with a soft chuckle.

Jin was aware his guest wouldn't want to be enlightened with the obscure truth of an all evil entity attatching itself to his remaining sanity, changing bliss into paranoia with a single sentence. Enlightened .. a bad choice of words.. Endarkened should've made it into dictinaries. he eyes the Korean, captivated by a small amount of innocence still located in those chestnut colored eyes. No, he did not want to soil that innocence of a safe world with dark words. Life was his struggle, and his alone. he decided to nod. A silent, short nod of the head would have to do.


End file.
